Dear Paxton,

The first time we saw you on the ultrasound, I cried the happiest cry of my life.  I knew without a doubt that you were a girl from the beginning, but we wouldn’t find out until 20 weeks. We told our parents at 8 weeks by ordering Jersey (our chocolate lab) a shirt that says, “Look Whoooooo’s going to be a big sister.”

Pregnancy was rough.  Really rough.  I could count the days that I didn’t get sick on one hand.  Some women say that they feel they are at their prettiest when they are pregnant.  I heard all kinds of words such as, “You’ll glow, you’ll feel beautiful, it is magical.”  WRONG.  If I was glowing it was because I was green from getting sick.  Don’t get me wrong…the process is beautiful.  The fact that I was growing you inside of me was incredible, but it’s not something I miss.  I miss knowing that you were protected and safe, but the swollen feet, waddle, and constant morning sickness….I’ll take the 6 month old baby over the pregnancy any day!

I showed really early.  In fact, a lady in Target asked me when I was due before we had even told people.

I constantly got asked if I was having twins or if the due date was off by a couple months.  I was sure you were going to be 10 pound toddler when you came out.  We found out at 20 weeks that….

But, I knew all along.  I had already picked out all the little girl things.  A boy wasn’t even a thought.

Every time we went for an ultrasound, the technicians were shocked at how active you were.  You liked to do flips, put your hands by your face, and even kick yourself in the head.  I started to not just feel kicks, but punches, head butts and everything in between.  You were constantly having a party… an uncomfortable party.

From 28 weeks on, I had really bad, really consistent contractions.  They told me that I would know when I was in labor, because those contractions were so different.  I didn’t believe them.  They were right.  At 30 weeks, we drove out to Colorado for Thanksgiving.  (This was my 3rd trip out being pregnant…but not this pregnant!)  Praise the Lord that your dad is a patient man.  I’m not sure how many times we stopped, in the first few hours. The air felt amazing, and I couldn’t believe that the next time we go out there, you’d be with us!

None of the teachers thought I’d make it back to school after Christmas Break, even though I wasn’t due until the end of January.  The Dr. had put me on bed rest in December for a weekend, because the contractions were so bad and frequent.  They really wanted me to make it to 37 weeks.  She recommended that I go to half-days for December and January.  I made it through December with the help of my co-workers, and told her I would start half-days in January.

On January 7th, we had our first day back with students.  We had a make-up Christmas party (there was a snow-day on the last day of school in December).  The next day, January 8th, I worked a half day and then had my weekly check-up.  I had official made it to 37 weeks (full-term!)   Dr. Stone told me that she thought she’s see me in the next few days.

Before going to bed that night, I asked your dad if he had packed his bag for the hospital. He said, “Why?  Do you think I need to?” I was laying in bed at 1 in the morning (everyone says to sleep before the baby gets here, but let’s be real, you don’t sleep the last 6 months of pregnancy) and my water broke.  I woke up your dad (he sleeps through EVERYTHING) and we loaded up the car.

I love you,

Your mom.