An Open Letter To My Baby

Today reminds me of all the stories we hear from our parents about those hours before heading to the hospital. When I was in my Mom's belly it was snowing in Connecticut. The house was warm. My older brother, David, was preparing to ninja me whenever I was brought home. My parents were so excited (not about David slicing me with throwing stars but that I was coming into the world.) Just like me and Meesh today. Los Angeles and it is hot outside. We are listening to Leona Naess on Itunes. The dogs, Thursday and August, are flanking your Mom while she breathes through contractions. All the while she is as beautiful as ever. She writes down the time between the contractions and the length of each one. This reminds me of counting thunder claps and lightning cracks. Nature. So incredibly beautiful. What do you look like? Your eyes? Lips? Hands? You are on your way. On your way into our arms. You've been in our hearts already. But soon, you will sleep, your heart pressed to your Mom's, to mine. Chest to chest. Skin to skin. How are we feeling right now? Well, it is indescribable. The way you do when first you see oceans, Yosemite, a constellation. Awed! And you're only just making your way. I have a feeling your arrival will multiply all of the above by millions. Until soon my child...I love you.