Dear Sweet Baby Keil,

I am awash in emotion! My friends who have grandchildren are excited for me, and most of them have drawn me aside to tell me how much I will love being a grandmother and to tell me I will be amazed at how much I will love you. The first time that happened, and every time since, I laughed to myself and thought, "They haven't a clue how much I'll love you! I will love you exponentially more than they have ever loved any of their grandchildren!" You see, I am already unabashedly smitten. I can't read your Mom's blog update, see her picture, or write you a letter without my joy tears causing me to sniffle and laugh.

I already have a big concern about you, though. How will I convince myself that you are not MY baby? Loving you the way I do, I'm going to have to be really careful not to overstep my bounds. I'm sure, when you're old enough, you'll tell your parents when I mis-step, and then I'll make sure you understand about forgiveness. If I'm anything like your Aunt Marion, I'll tell on myself before the sun goes down!

Your Mommy was an extraordinary baby, an extraordinary person, from the day she was born. Her older sister, your Aunt Rosie, was 2 1/2 years old when your Mommy was born. Rosie was used to commanding my full attention, so your Mommy could have been dramatic to seize her share of the spotlight. That wasn't your Mommy's way, though. She was a good baby, and she put up with her sister's constant interruptions without a fuss. I think she was taking notes, memorizing everything her big sister did and how we parents reacted to each action. One of your Mommy's early nicknames was Speedy Feets, which seems prophetic now. She waved her feet around when she was having her diaper changed. She was good at directing music, too, or so we imagined, as she used her hands to dance before she could stand upright.

Although your Mommy adored her big sister, she never seemed to be in her shadow. She was always as independent and self-sufficient as a child could be, at every age. When her younger sister, your Aunt Marion, was born, your Mommy was just 1 1/2 years old. Much of the time, we were still giving her age in months - almost 18 months old, she was. Your grandfather and I were a bit concerned about moving our sweet little Lillian (your Mommy) to the other end of the house from our bedroom (and from her sisters' rooms), but it made sense that she should have her own room, and the only one available was at the other end of the house. With some trepidation, we bought a used baby bed and some affordable Minnie Mouse sheets for her, put a monitor in her new room, and moved her to the other end of the house. Your Mommy quickly proved that she could handle being farther away. Then she showed she could be as patient with her little sister as she had been with her big sister. In fact, she was helpful with her little sister, and she was quick to claim her. Your Aunt Marion had 2 powerful sister advocates!

As you grow up, you will hear plenty of stories about bacon people (Aunt Jaynie has the video!) and the times your Mom got in trouble. We'll be sure to embarrass her and make her seem a little less intimidating to you, but not as a service to you. Rather, we want to recall how much we have loved her these past 23 years (which includes those months she spent in the womb!) Loving your Mommy has been a privilege and a sheer delight, with bits of frustration mixed in, but none that could ever detract from the pure love for her that has expanded our hearts, just like you are expanding them now, all from the comfort of her womb! Soon you will be hearing her voice, unmuffled by amniotic fluid, and you will be transfixed by her beautiful face and the love that emanates through her smiles and her tears. (Later you'll hear us blame hormones for some of those tears, but she'll have tears of joy, too. Hormones can't claim those!) Your Daddy will finally get his hands on you without Mommy's skin getting in the way! He is the best Daddy you could ever have, so watch him like a hawk!

You are being born into a family who loves you beyond anything you can conceive of, until you help a loved one conceive. (Aunt Marion will be exclaiming "Mooooom!" when she reads this.) We will love you through your shining triumphs and through your trials and tribulations. We will tell endless stories about you, about how clever you are, how sweet you are, how much like your Mom and your Dad you are, and we'll exclaim that you have all the best genes of the Keil/Siman/Andrews clans. We'll find ways that you resemble each of us so we can stake our claims even more forcefully.

Your Mom and your Dad will make sure you know that God made you perfect, that you are exactly who He meant you to be. They will hold you accountable when you push the boundaries, and if you are anything like your Mom, you'll push hard, when you push! You'll learn loving discipline is just that. And your aunts will call you to task, too, especially when you disrespect your incredible parents. In return, you will get to teach your aunts and me about boyhood. (Aunt Shelly has the inside track on that, being your Dad's little sister.)

Your Mommy and Daddy are getting to know God even better, thanks to you. They will realize every day that their love for you grows and grows, and they will better comprehend how deep and wide and long and high God's love is for us, His beloved sons and daughters. Your Mommy and Daddy will also appreciate their own parents more and more! Thank YOU, Baby Keil!

Your Mommy and Daddy are the official expectant parents, but your whole extended family is expectant. We are expecting joy upon joy, blessings upon blessings, and some fearful moments, too. (If you are as active as your parents, we will have several of those!) We are praying that your entry into our lives will be dramatic enough to entertain you with stories later, but not dramatic enough to have us rushing to the hospital.

A small favor, please, Baby Keil, could you cooperate a bit with your Mom's muscles and delay your entry until I am on the scene?

Loving you always,
JuJu (or whatever name you bestow on me with love!)

33 weeks

Hi there, baby-

These letters get later and later every week. Your 33rd week is over now, and I feel a bit behind. I'm afraid I'm not doing a very good job taking care of us, little one. The prenatal vitamins got lost in the shuffle of the move, I haven't set foot in a gym in well over a month, and the free refill policy at the Mandolin has put my caffeine intake over the requisite amounts more times than is probably acceptable... I think about these things and wonder if I ought to try harder or be more gentle with myself. Pregnancy is a little like walking a tightrope.

News from the ex-utero world is that our house papers are signed (finished!) but delayed by a neighbor filing a poorly timed boundary dispute. This morning I indulged in a long fantasy about marching my pregnant self up to her front door and giving her a piece of my mind. In this daydream, I can't decide whether a basket of warm muffins and sympathy or cursing and finger pointing is a more effective strategy, but I'm leaning toward the latter. I wonder if she realizes that her old beef with a long gone property investor is forcing a very pregnant lady to sleep on an air mattress for the third week in a row? 

While I was engaged in this imaginary conversation with our neighbor, I neglected to notice the nozzle on the kettle was open and all the water had boiled out, evaporating and accumulating in droplets on the built in microwave above the oven. Attempting to mop up this mess I dropped the paper towel, which turned made that whispery burning paper noise and turned charcoal black on the hot stove. Through the smoke, I shook my head at the sky and told Jesus to please, please stop messing with me.

I know that there are nuggets of wisdom to be found in all this waiting, but I am too anxious to look for them. We have to be out of our temporary place soon, so the words "indefinite hold" have got me more afraid of homelessness than overlooked opportunities for spiritual insight. Pray, child, if you do that kind of thing yet. You may be comfortable enough in there now, but I can guarantee sleeping bags in Tacoma alleys are not so cozy as the womb! 

….On a brighter note, you dad made a smashing debut on the drums (no pun intended) at church this week, and Ruthy is throwing you a party in just a few days. Ruthy is not only busy crafting little treasures to help welcome you into the world - she's also doing the difficult work of being 19 weeks pregnant with a little boy or girl who is bound to be one of your friends! You can thank her later.

Here's your portrait for the week. You continue to get compliments everywhere we go. Your dad and I like to laugh about how popular you've made us. Only 6 more weeks until you come along and steal the show completely. We promise to take it well! 

Love, Mom

Dear my sweet little nephew,

Knowing I'm about to be an aunt is overwhelmingly wonderful. People always say you will never understand how much a parent loves their child until you have a baby yourself. Well although I'm not the one having a baby, I'm getting a glimpse of that feeling because of the incredible amount of love I feel for you already. I've watched my mom spoil her nieces and nephews and I've developed great relationships with my own aunts and uncles and I can't tell you enough how excited I am to have that bonding experience with you.

I do really wish your parents still lived in Nashville. Sometimes I tear up a little thinking about how much I miss them and how sad I am to not be watching you grow up every week in person. But thankfully I will see lots of pictures and we will Skype and Facetime as much as possible. But by the time you can read this you may not know what Skype and Facetime are because technology moves so fast it's hard to imagine what it will be like when you're older. I have a feeling you are going to be so smart.

I keep brainstorming about the cute little outfits I want to put you in and the bow-ties I want to make you and I'm trying to think of other things I could make since my specialty is aprons and ruffles, but I don't think you would appreciate it very much if I put you in ruffles. We'll save that for your sister.

Well since you're going to have lots of letters to read, i'll try to keep this fairly short. I am three weeks away from graduating college and should really be writing my very last paper that is due tomorrow but you are WAY more important :) I love you so so much little man. I can't wait to watch you grow and walk out the destiny God has for you. Praying for you and sending lots of snuggly hugs and kisses.

Love your Aunt Shelly
(or Aunt Michelle or whatever your precious little heart desires to call me... I was trying to think of a cute drink name to go with the Pop and Sweet Tea theme your grandparents (my parents) are hoping to be called, but Aunt Lemonade or Aunt Latte just don't sound right do they :) ... i can hear you giggling just thinking about it)

32 weeks

Your 32nd week was a beautiful one. Sunshine and resurrection celebration, big round bellies doing laps around the lake. The theme for Easter Sunday at church was newness, which of course made me think of you. As believers we are in a constant state of spiritual newness, always being transformed and perfected by Jesus... But you will be new in all senses of the word. The new sights and sounds and smells of this place will continue to baffle you for years to come. Your life as a newborn will be part exhilaration and part trauma, and your dad and I have been chosen to guide you through both. It is a humbling task.

The closing date for our house came and went with no keys to show for it. Our temporary place on Washington St feels different filled with the warmth and light of early spring, and we spent the afternoon spray painting Goodwill canvases to hang in our new house and eating pizza on the deck.

Spring is a fun time to be pregnant. I love telling well-wishers we have less than 2 months to go and watching their smiles spread. Everyone is excited about you - especially Becca, who squeals every time you wiggle and calls you her "little peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

You look bigger every time I blink, and watching you grow makes the discomfort of carrying you more bearable. Would you like to see your progress?

This time next year, we'll be arriving at church on Easter Sunday as a family of three and you will perhaps be old enough to appreciate the petting zoo they set up for the kiddos. Or maybe we'll take you to Nashville for the annual Keil family egg hunt and find a way to pin those goofy green ears on your baby head? Makes me giggle just to think about it.

Happy Easter, baby boy!
From your loving mother.

31 weeks

Dear boy,

Back in those first weeks of pregnancy, before I even knew I was carrying you, I was plagued with a fatigue so intense that I once left work and fell asleep on a city bench on Tacoma Ave. That old tiredness came back this week, your 31st. The timing couldn't have been worse with us in the process of moving out of our apartment. As adorable as your bump is, you do complicate the task of carrying boxes. We managed to devise a system wherein I could still be helpful... suffice to say it involved a stolen grocery store cart! :-)

All week I kept telling people I wasn't the least bit sentimental about leaving the Broadmoor. I wasn't lying, or at least I thought I wasn't... but when we left that empty flat late on the night of the 31st I felt surprisingly heavy, sad. I kept thinking, someday we won't even remember this place! We'll argue about exactly what it looked like - was that old bathroom pink or orange? - and forget how the closet shelf was held up by wires and the shape of those little white doors in front of the trash nook.

That's how it goes, right? One day you pack up all your stuff and leave the place you've lived the longest in your entire adult life and poof! - the whole year just evaporates into the haze of early marriage lore, into that growing volume of stories from the pre-baby days. Someday we will tell you about the Broadmoor and you will roll your eyes because we are your parents, and it is inconceivable to you that we were ever cool - that we ever lived downtown in an old hotel with a view of the port, hosting Tacoma's finest on folding chairs late into the night.

How are you in there, little one? Can you tell that we're living in a new place? I like to think you are immune to the discomforts of moving, that inside the womb you don't even notice that our temporary housing has no heat and the air mattress is constantly deflating. Your dad and I are not so comfortable ourselves, but we have always loved adventures and living this little house on Washington Street definitely fits the bill.

The chill on our faces while we sleep inevitably reminds us of camping, and we last night we got to laughing about the time that we decided to test a Ray Jardine-esque raw food diet and took 12 lbs of fresh produce on the Wonderland Trail only to wake up in the middle of the night surrounded on all sides by enterprising mice gnawing through the corn husks and orange peels. Freezing and foodless, we hitch-hiked back to Olympia a few days later.

Your dad is already talking about taking you camping this summer, but between you and me I think raising you will be adventure enough!

Love, Mom