Hello. This is your first letter from Mommy. Your brothers had handwritten ones, and you will, too, but, Baby, you will be born in a digital age and I am going with the times.
I write these letters to you and your brothers because it's important to me that you know how much I love you. Don't worry, I plan on showing you daily. You should know I'm a hugger and a kisser and squeezer. I'm also a fan of the random pet name. Your big brother Joey is "Angel" and "Cookie" and your big brother Noah is "Sunshine" and "Woojie." (Okay. You should probably know that I call Noah "Crazy-Pants," too.) I say pet names with clenched teeth and love to tickle. I tell stories and make jokes. Oh, and I'm very sarcastic, but by the time it matters, you probably will be, too.
Right now, I'm away on vacation and missing your brothers like crazy. You're the lucky one, because by default you got to come along. You've been here with me, nestled inside my tummy with your fingers and toes, and your ears--I know you can hear me, Baby--and we've had a really special time. I'm so glad that I got to share this trip with you.
Aside from what I've already told you, there are so many things you need to know about this family you've decided to join. Your brothers leave some pretty big shoes to fill. You will adore them and they will adore you (that's a command, not a prediction). They are handsome, funny, adventurous, creative, and smart. These are all things I know you'll be, too, in your own way. Don't ever worry about being just like them. I already have one Joey and one Noah. I'm very excited to have one You.
I like to wonder what you'll be like, but I also know that no matter how much I wonder, you'll surprise me. You'll change me in ways I never thought possible. Your brothers already started that process, but now you'll have your chance. I figure by the time you three are done with me, I'll look like Yoda from Star Wars. Wispy white hair, wrinkles aplenty, and a greenish hue. But I'll fight like a ninja, light saber or not.
You do have one advantage your brothers never could. Lots of people probably think it's that I've had so much experience with the drama of Joey and the crazy of Noah, and that might be part of it, but it's certainly not all. Much more important is that you and I are already kindred spirits. We are both third-borns, youngests, and happy surprises to our parents. My mother, your grandmother (she's also crazy...there's a lot of that in this family) always smiled fondly when she announced to large parties of friends and acquaintances that I was The Surprise. I hope I never do that to you, because it sends a message you might misconstrue (I certainly did). What I want you to know is that you are my very special gift. You are hope and wonder and love all rolled up into one person, and that's not even considering what other unique qualities you will bring by simply being you. But always know, Baby, that you are magic to us, and we love you very, very much.
Right now I'm told you are the size of a plum. Your brother Noah loves to find out every week how much you've grown. He wants your name to be Snowman Pajamas. Joey wants to name you after the characters from his favorite books. I promise it will be something great, something as wonderful as the person I already know you are.
Some day, Baby, you'll be able to look back and read the hundreds of letters I will write you. You will know that you never have been and never will have to be alone in this big scary world. You will know that one person will always know you better than anyone, and will be there for you no matter what you do. But, of course, as my child, you will be the closest thing to perfect possible (that's a command, not a prediction.)