Posts Tagged ‘Letters to Maddie’

Dearest Maddie,

It would appear as though you had us both going, your father and I!  We assumed (and quite wrongly so) that your rough and tumble ways within the womb gave a sort of inclination towards being a boy.  When we found out about you, so many months ago, we started calling you Little Doodle (a nickname that neither gender nor birth is going to save you from!) and we used masculine pronouns when referring to you, as neither your dad nor myself could bear calling you “it” or “the baby.”

Then, come the 20 week scan, as we hyped ourselves up on the prospect of finally getting to know whether you were a boy or girl, you surprised us by taking the matter into your own hands, and your primly crossed legs prevented us from knowing.

Now that we do know, it will take some getting used to, as these past 34 weeks you have been a “he” in our vocabulary.

So I have a few promises I need to make you, little girl.  I promise to not force gender stereotypes on you, and I hope you will always feel comfortable to be who you want to be, whether that be pretending to be the princess or pretending to be the dragon-slaying knight.  I promise to always encourage you to challenge the still-present gender inequality in our society, and to stand up for what you believe in.  And I promise to raise you as best I can to not buy into the unobtainable standards of “what a woman should look like” fed to us at every turn in our society.  I cannot promise that I will succeed, but I can promise you that I will try my best.

Yesterday afternoon we bought you a pretty sun dress, complete with matching hat.  But I promise you, I also have a Star Trek onesie you will be wearing at times as well.  Boy or girl… you are probably destined to be nerdy… and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Love,

Mom and Dad.

Little Doodle,

Yesterday we went to Build-A-Bear and made a special bear just for you.   We carefully selected a beautifully classic teddy that will be both a toy and a time capsule.  We spent time recording three messages to you, telling you that we love you, that we cannot wait to meet you.  We called you Little Doodle in the recordings because, let’s face it, I feel as though it’s a nickname that will continue to stick with you long after you are born.

We put these messages in three of the bear’s paws, with the fourth paw sporting a recording of a lullaby.  Our hope is that this will not only be something you enjoy and play with when you are young, but also will be a treasure you hold onto when you are older, so that you will always have the messages your father and I recorded with love for you.

I promise you we did all the silly rituals with the shopkeeper:  we placed our feet on the pedal to power the machine that stuffs the bear.   We picked out two little hearts, rubbed them in our hands, placed them over our hearts, kissed them and made a wish for you as we put them inside your special bear.  We registered the bear as “Little Doo Bear” just for you.  And we cannot wait to give it to you.

Love,

Mom and Dad.

Little Doodle,

Here we are, 29 weeks, rounding 3rd and heading for home base.  For the longest time it has felt like being pregnant was to be a new permanent state of being, a new me, a new body.  I’ve gotten used to your odd demands for various foods, the need to use the bathroom every 40 minutes on average, and of course those little feet you use to constantly remind me of your presence.  It’s very odd to think that as far as we have come on this journey together, these past 29 weeks, that we only have a little longer to go… a short 10.5 weeks until you are with us.

This week you let your father in on the secret you and I have shared for nearly 12 weeks between just the two of us: you kicked his hand with those little happy feet, late at night as we lay together in the silent dark, talking about you.  And now before we know it you will be here with us and I will have to share you with the rest of the world, as selfish as that sounds.   I’ve fallen in love with those little feet: little feet that only I have known for this long, little feet that sometimes jiggle my whole bump, little feet which feel like you’re dancing, little perfect feet which, I’m sure, are sporting little perfect toes.  The little feet only I know.

Others will undoubtedly touch and kiss your perfectly soft baby feet, but they will always be MY little baby feet… the little feet you used to talk to me before you were born.

Love,

Mom.

Little Doodle,

I find myself wondering what you are going to be like once you are born and as you start to grow. I think about what it’s going to be like when you are finally here with us, and what you will think of this world.  What you will do and how you will discover things. What your little eyes will see, or your tiny hands to grasp.

I wonder if you are already developing your little personality as we speak, as you dance in my womb.  I wonder if you will be adventurous or laid back, bold or shy.  I think a little further into the future as well, wondering with great consideration if you will speak with an American twang or British accent, wondering what sort of stories you will like at bedtime, wondering what you will make of school, and what you will give to us to hang proudly on fridge.

Despite not having seen you yet, I do know a few things about you.  For one, you are active, always dancing about, kicking away.  You are stubborn (but in a good way!) as scan after scan you refused to let us see your little face, covering it with your little hands.  You are modest, and had your legs primly crossed at the last scan as well.  You may even be a little rocker, as your movements became more rhythmic each time you could hear music being played.  You are definitely a little nerd in the making…  it’s entirely unavoidable, you’ve inherited it from both parents. And you are loved already by a great many people.

I hope you hear us when we talk to you, I hope you feel the love we have for you.  I hope you dream when you sleep, and I hope you cannot wait to meet us.  Because we can’t wait to meet you.

Love,

Mom and Dad.