My loves,

I have met you so many times in my dreams, in visions and in the eyes of those who wanted to be your father. I know what your voices sound like: the way a rainbow would if it giggled. You are loved beyond belief. You are deeply desired. I often stand in front of a mirror and puff out my lower abdomen to what it would be like at 20 weeks gestation. The fundus of my uterus would be reaching my umbilicus, becoming visible to everyone that I am with child. At this point, I could cup you in the palm of my hand. I’m pretty sure I will have to fight not to midwife myself and just enjoy being pregnant. I’m even more sure that the joy will exude out of me. I think about you every single day. I use the time you have granted me to get everything ready for your arrival as much as I can. I can hardly wait to see you.

I hope I remember all the things I tell pregnant women to do: breathe, enjoy this time in life, hold you often, love and pamper myself. I look forward to seeing your footprint kick me from the inside. I will revel in the fact that you are the only human being that knows what my heart sounds like from the inside. I pray that the fear that is quite natural for pregnant women will not overshadow my birthing experience. I can already imagine putting my hands at my yoni and feeling your crowning. I want to catch you myself and bring you up and on my bare chest. I hope your father’s hands are there supporting your entry into the world. I know my midwife will be there watching that all goes well and having a trusted professional with me will allow me to be fully present for you. I imagine that I will cry. I think I will sob for hours and probably for the rest of my life. To be with child has been a dream since I was a little girl. I desire being a mother more than the long list of dreams I want to achieve in this lifetime. Because of your anticipated arrival, I push myself even more to continue to grow and transform.

I will write this letter in the walls of my uterus so that by the time we meet, you will know how much I loved you, eternities before I breathed you into my womb. You are my long awaited precious children. I’ve waited so many years to meet you. I will fill your life with music, hold your hand and teach you the rhythm etched into your hips as the drums play from the radio I placed by your bed…teach you how to salsa your way across dance floors and live in the moment of 16 bars as you bop your head to the last of the realest emcees.

There are books I have written, stories I have told that I will recite for you countless times; with your head on my lap, I will weave my hopes with my fingers into the curls on your head so your dreams are blessed with all I pray for you to aspire. I love you like this heart that races with excitement every time the thought of your presence crosses my mind. I hold my womb and close my eyes, keeping your home sacred until you are conceived…

…Because I have conceived you years before your anticipated arrival and I get butterflies with just the thought of the possibilities.

I wonder what you will look like…if your eyes have stars embedded in them, and if they are deep chocolate brown laughing eyes. And what kind of melody your laugh imitates when you run around my legs, your laughter the joy of my ears as you throw your head back and scream with delight in the reckless abandon only a child and souls that never age know well.

Everything I will ever do and have done from the day I decided I wanted to be your mother is for you. I metamorphosized time and time again, continuing to extract the remaining impurities my shortcomings have left on me, working my alchemy until I am golden…just to make my self worthy to cradle your life in these hands…these hands I hope are strong enough to keep you safe. I waited this long so that the man worthy of being your father was selected with time and care. I think of my own parents and take the lessons they taught me in what love is and what love is not. I will try just as hard as they did to get it right. I know your father will be doing the same because we promised before you came that we would cultivate you and break cycles that we no longer need to pass on.

I will never ask you for anything but the smile that creeps on your face when you watch shooting stars with me on full moon nights. I am aware one day you will turn and run from me but I will always wait for you. Consider all offenses you’ll commit forgiven in exchange for your understanding of why sometimes I will have to raise my voice; I only want you to be the best human being you can possibly be. I will tattoo the first time you called me “Mami”, your first step and first finger-paint into the crevices of my wrinkles so that when I sing you to sleep and you reach up for my face, the pride I will always feel for you is evident in the lines around my tired eyes. And as you become the man, the woman you will be after growing out of dolls and trucks into training bras and newly grown Adam’s apples, the tears streaming down my face will only be gratitude that I was allowed to be blessed with the gift of your life in mine.

You will quickly notice that your momma is a mover and shaker. I am praying to give birth to you sooner than later so I can keep the promise I made you a long time ago: I fully intend on leaving this earth better than I found it. As you grow up, I will take more time speaking out against the injustices in the world and tirelessly working towards solutions that you can inherit. I am aware I am simply borrowing this world from you. As gently as I handle the newborns I receive is how I hope to handle your future. I look forward to you watching me speak at conferences and have you strapped to me as I move in the world assisting women and families.

And then I will read you this letter, the one I imprinted into your skin the moment you became my most precious children and never ask you for anything except the promise to live every single moment of your life beautifully.

Love,

Mami

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