Can you hear me in there?

Dear little squishy block of cells,

I think you have a fighting chance. Your due date? The same as your brother's. That means that you are still so tiny, without much form yet and with so much uncertainty.

It's strange though. As Little Bird and I hung out in the kitchen today watching the "vroom vrooms" in the backyard pouring concrete, I felt your presence. You were real to me. So I picked up the phone and called the nurse. I laughed off how I had peed on a stick too soon, but that it was definitely positive.

Two lines.

Tomorrow morning I go bright and early. We'll look at drops of blood and ask them to make sure there are things there to keep you stuck right where you are for the next nine months. You have a fighting chance. I will fight for you.

That is a promise. I got them to agree that if I show up first thing, they will rush results so that if needed, I can start meds over the weekend. No chances, Baby. You fight the good fight in there, and I'll fight it out here.

I sure would like to hold you one day. So stick around, okay?

Love,
Mama

I know the risks. I know what might happen. I also know that it doesn't hurt any less when I try not to attach. It's my choice, and I'm choosing to start loving right now.