Today is Easter, and I can’t help but think what we will be doing, all three of us, next year at this time.
You will be almost one year-old by then, crawling around the house, or perhaps even teetering on newly discovered walking feet.
Maybe we’ll be up in Iowa with family, you wearing a frilly dress that I probably purchased just for the holiday occasion. It will be something cute, that all the adults will ohh and ahh over, but not too over-the-top frilly. It is I, your Mama, that will be buying your clothes, after all. Too many ruffles or flowers or bows will simply not do.
We will have a big family dinner, I’m sure, and you will sit in the corner, perhaps in your Mama’s old high chair, joining in the meal with a couple small pieces of roasted ham or pork tenderloin specifically cooled and torn into tiny pieces just for your little fingers.
Half of the pieces will end up on the floor, and your grandparents’ dog will wonder what lottery she won that day. You will never have to eat without a canine partner again at Grammy’s and Grampy’s.
It will be Easter so perhaps we’ll start a few new traditions. An Easter egg hunt? Or maybe a cake shaped like a bunny?
There will be photos. Lots of photos.
We will go to church Easter morning and your behavior will be angelic, of course. You will get antsy halfway through the service, though, so your Daddy will pick you up and, facing backwards over his shoulder, you will make googly eyes with the older couple sitting behind us, convincing them by the end of the service that you are the most darling and well behaved little girl they have ever laid eyes on.
It will be perfect. You will be perfect.
I thought about all of this as I woke up this morning. I was laying in bed for a while as the sun came up, enjoying that wonderful weekend perk of waking up slowly, dozing off and on.
I was dozing and dreaming. Dreaming of you.
Your Daddy and I aren’t with family for Easter this year. Traveling with a 9-month pregnant belly isn’t the most enjoyable activity, so we are at home, enjoying one of the last few weekends we might have for decades without children.
We have spent the day so far reading together on the couch, taking a long walk with the dog, chatting on the phone with family, and napping and talking on the porch. We even tackled the confusing and oddly hilarious task of assembling your car seat and stroller. We celebrated our relaxing day and stroller-related brilliance with homemade turkey meatballs and big glasses of wine.
Well, wine for Daddy. Faux wine for me.
It’s been quite the day. It has been, well…perfect.
A friend of mine mentioned to me the other day how fun it is to envision your child’s future, but that it’s also something that shouldn’t be dwelled upon too much. You just never know, she said.
I completely agree with her. We don’t know. These daydreams will continue to come, I can’t stop that. But it is with a hint of fear and a whole lotta elation that I know that the future weeks, months, and years won’t be anything like we imagined.
Next Easter? One year from today? Who knows.
What I do know? One year from today our lives will have been forever changed because you became a part of them.
Our lives will be unimaginable. And because of that, they will be perfect.
That I know for sure.
For more in the Dear Babygirl series: Letters to My Unborn Daughter