Bump.

You’re just a small bump. You’re growing every day while you wait to meet the world. I haven’t met you yet, but I love you more than you will ever be able comprehend.

You cause me stress.

You make me wonder constantly of you are doing fine. I will probably always feel that way. I imagine I’ll be like my mother in that sense. She could barely sleep if she didn’t know we were safe and sound.

I cried to the sound of your heartbeat. I smiled at the sight of you on the screen.

I want to talk to you every day. I want you to know my voice and find comfort in it.

I want to show you all my favorite songs and read you all my favorite poems. I want to sing to you.

I can’t wait to hold you.

You’re a small bump. And I love you.