We are 34 weeks. You and I have been kicking butt at this thing (on most days) and I can't really remember where the time went since I wrote my first letter to you. A few things have changed. Here are a few of the highlights:
1. Your daddy and I bought the house we'll raise you (and your future siblings in) and we're pretty close to being all unpacked. Well, except for the basement but you'll understand why soon enough (that space is just weird but is a pretty good catch all).
2. I actually look like you are there now. Up until about a month ago, and still on occasion, people had no clue just by looking that you were there and I got those, "wait, are you pregnant" stares from a lot of people that just couldn't think of a nice way to ask.
3. Your room is almost done. It has been so amazing creating a space for you and I stop a little and stare every time I pass it walking down the hall. Even though I can feel you move (which is more of a wiggle now since you are running low on space) sometimes I still can't imagine that you'll be sleeping in that room or we'll be rocking in that chair some day soon.
4. I think what makes me most excited is for your dad to get some one on one time with you too. Even though he's been able to feel you move you definitely save your best tricks for mama and I feel like we have our own special moments. I'm ready for him to have that too.
The weeks are practically flying. Both sides of the family are trying to plan out when they will come see you. Friends are going above and beyond to make your mama feel extra special (you have some pretty amazing aunts). Our baby shower is next weekend and I promise to take pictures for you. I want you to see how loved you were before you even got here. The crazy thing is, there are so many people that can't make it that love you too, that I don't even think it would paint an accurate portrait of how crazy we all are about you. I'm sure I don't need to tell you, because your dad and I tell you all the time, but I love you. I always will and I'll never tire of telling you so.