A letter to my unborn child

Dear Baby,

I tell the world I don't think of you yet, but the truth is I do. I think about you a lot.

I tell the world I don't want you yet, but the truth is I do. I can't wait to have you.

But I worry baby.

I worry this world will be hard on you.

I worry you might not love the life I give you.

I worry you could one day watch your dreams burn.

I worry you would one day be misunderstood, misjudged and mistreated.

But most of all,

I worry I'm not ready for you.

Because I have lived long enough to know, baby, that life is never what you want it to be; that your dreams will mostly wake you up in the morning but also keep you up at night, and that there are enough wars and crimes and injustice and pollution and ugliness in this world to make me hate it, but I haven't lived long enough to know how to make any of it better. So why offer what I hate to you, baby?

I still don't know you. I don't know your name, I don't know how you will look like, how you will think, what you will love and what you will hate, but whenever I think of seeing you hurt my heart sinks. Does that even make sense, baby?

Look at me baby, asking you questions when I should be the one providing answers. Do you see what I mean?

Your father injects me with love for life every day. But I was lucky to find your father, baby. What if you don't find someone as good as him to wake up to for the rest of your life? Because at the end of the day baby, you will only be under our wings for a brief moment; before you go out and spread your own wings.

When you go out on your own, baby. What if you don't like the view from the top?

What if you reach a place where you don't know how to fly further anymore?

What if I wasn't able to help you?

But also baby,

sometimes you will wake up to the smell of coffee,

sometimes you will get goosebumps from your favourite book, movie or song,

sometimes you will laugh until your stomach hurts,

sometimes you will be fascinated by the sunset,

sometimes you will get to know beautiful people,

sometimes you will dance to the sound of trees in the wind,

sometimes you will make your own dreams come true,

sometimes baby,

you will be happy.

So hang in there, baby,

hang in there until the world gets a little better,

hang in there until I prepare myself to hold you tight and make you feel like it is better even when it's not,

because I know I will never give you a perfect life,

I know it's selfish,

but hang in there until I convince myself that that's okay.

With all my love,

Mom