Dear Griffin:

For many people, a baby isn’t a person until he’s out in the fresh air, seeing the world with new eyes and growing like a weed, in so many ways. But to me, I can already sense that you are a person, even though we are quite literally joined at the hip and you experience everything from your father’s voice, to the sunshine, to your Mom’s favorite song, “Bohemian Rhapsody” through the muffled filter of the womb.

When I sing in the car, quite loudly and sometimes off key, I can feel you dance along with me. Of course, this could also be you trying to get me to pipe down, but I like to think of you as the dancing type. After all, it seems to me that you already have a pretty good sense of humor, the picture below provides ample evidence. Of course, I can’t fault you for sticking your tongue out at me, I don’t like to have my picture taken for an hour at a time either.

You also seem to be a very contrary little lad. One moment you and I will be having a delightful conversation via your mad belly pounding skills, but the second your father tries to feel you, your limbs become still and silent. I figure that this is your way of punishing him for every time he tried to give me a wet-willy or flick a booger at me, and I appreciate it, but you could give the guy a break. After all, he is your father and he loves you very much.

Your father and I spend a lot of time wondering what you will look like, as I suppose all parents do. Will you be pasty like your mother, or have darker skin from the Native American genes floating around in your father’s blood? Your eyes have eaten up countless conversations. I explained to your father all the basics of genetics and what I learned in college, such as blue eyes being a recessive gene and each of us contributing one of our eye color genes to you. You have a rich gene pool my lad, and to be honest you could end up with blue eyes from your grandpas, brown eyes from your dad and grandma, or green eyes from your mother and grandma. We are so curious to see who you will be, but regardless of the way you turn out, we will love you all the same.

We have so many high hopes for you, like every parent. I hope that you will love animals the way your father and I do, and will love the domestic critters in your life and respect the nature’s creatures and treat them with the dignity they deserve. I hope you forgive us for giving you three canine brothers, they were kind of like Pringles, one just wasn’t enough. You certainly will have a clean face though, as I doubt even constant policing will stop their curious tongues from licking your face.

I hope you do well in school, but if you don’t I’ll be there to help. I hope you find and excel at things you love, instead of feeling pressured into hobbies or sports because others want you to participate. Even if you decide you like football, I’ll still come to every game. In the freezing snow. With twenty blankets and a portable heater.

Most of all, I hope that you are happy.

Your father and I are so excited to meet the little person we are just starting to know. Despite being part me, and part him, we can tell that you are already uniquely yourself.

You can’t imagine how proud we are.

See you in approximately 100 days.

Love,

Your Mother