Your dad and I now know you’re a girl. You were very restful during the sonogram, which makes me think you will be more like me than your energetic dad. I can’t wait to meet you and find out all the beauty that your dad’s and my genetics create. I’m sure your birth will mark the beginning of a better human race!
You’ve finally made a debut as part of my outward appearance. At 20 weeks, you no longer look like the shame of eating two chicken fried steaks and a molten chocolate cake tucked under an oversized tee shirt, but like there is a tiny life growing inside me. (Although both may be true at some point). I thank you for making an appearance.
Your grandparents have already decided that they will likely call you Jelly Bean. Maybe because it rhymes with Ellie Jean, maybe because you looked like a Jelly Bean with flippers up until this last sonogram, or maybe just because your grandparents are a little nutty. Don’t worry; regardless of what they call you, they will love you to the ends of the earth!
Your grandparents are the ones who taught me to love and what unconditional love is. They set an example for marital love. It’s how I knew your dad was the one that I wanted to make a genetic cocktail with. I want to see him when I look at your precious face. I want to laugh, “you are SO your father’s child,” when you tell a complete stranger a story about your booboo. Your dad wants you to have my eyes. I want you to have his sociability.
We’re pretty sure you will have dark hair and pretty lips. But more than what you look like, we so much hope and dream for all you could become. Thankful, giving, Texas-lover, happy, passionate, Mario-player, ambitious, confident, firefly chaser, NASCAR fan, intelligent, happy, healthy, food-loving, generous, talented, and happy are just a few to start the list.
I have no idea how I will teach you to be all of these things, but your dad and I will do our best. Until next time, Jelly Bean, Mommy loves you.