Dear baby,

I'm getting anxious for you to get here. This whole time I have imagined you in some embryonic state, moving around slowly in an alternate world, a world distinct and distant, wholly apart from us for 9 long months. And suddenly 8 and a half months flew by, a blur of Seattle rain, and then sun, and then more rain. I learned things, and played things, and thought about you as some intangible, although pleasant, being. And suddenly, today, I realized that you are REAL. You will exist! And I can't wait to hold you and play with you and watch you grow. You will have so many people kissing your cheeks that you might be overwhelmed. But don't worry. Later on, when you are grown up, you will be glad. And someday you will be eight, and then twelve, and then twenty-one, like me.

This is what is happening in my life right now: I was elected to be co-director of the UW Student Food Cooperative for next year. I am working in a cooking school, and my boss loves to yell at me. I live in a sorority, I sleep until noon, and I am studying backyard chickens while working on getting a college degree. I go to coffee shops in the morning, and bars at night, and people amaze me. When you know me later, will you think it strange that I did these things? Will I be old and weird? Will you find the music I like incredibly old and strange? Probably so. Either way, I can't wait until I can hang out with you.

There is so much to tell you, and lots of time to tell, although it feels so urgent to teach you all the things I have learned in my (somewhat short) life. The thing I want to tell you today is: life passes quickly, little one. Don't let it pass you by too quickly! Embrace the day! Do things! But you will learn this lesson later.

Endless love,
Marion

To Baby,

It is March 1, 2012, and I am sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle, Washington. I am 21 years old, and yesterday was Leap Day. I just finished writing a journal entry for a class I’m taking about animals and the ethics of eating meat. I talked about you, and figured I should be talking to you, too.

I think about you a lot. Your mom writes about you in her blog, and every time I read it, I can’t help but cry. I live in a sorority, and it’s hard to cry in a sorority. People always see you, and question your red eyes. Sometimes my friends read it with me, and they cry too. Because life is so precious. I show everyone the pictures I have of you (really, they are of your mom, because you are still a baby bump). I am proud of you, growing so quickly! Lillian says you are in the 60^th percentile for your growth.

One day you will be old enough to read this. But today, you are not even old enough to see this. You are 26 weeks young. You are viable! Congrats! I can’t wait for all the milestones, and all the things you’ll do. I better be your favorite aunt. If I am not, or if you think I am crazy, I promise you that I’m not, and that I love you, even if I seem mean. I can’t imagine why I’d be mean though.

Miles, there are so many things I want to tell you, so many lessons I want to teach you! I want to tell you that life is full of beauty, and that it’s all around you, even when you don’t see it. I want to tell you that, usually, it doesn’t matter what people think. I want to tell you that the future isn’t bleak. I want to tell you that the future is waiting for you with open arms! It can’t wait for you to arrive! It can’t wait for you to start. I want to tell you that you probably can’t be the President, the Prime Minister of England, or a Prince, but that you can be pretty much anything else if you want to be. I want to tell you that you probably shouldn’t eat meat, because animals are cool and humans aren’t always superior. And cherries are delicious.

There is so much more, but I know you will figure it out. Lillian always had it figured out before me, and I’m pretty sure Jason had it figured out before both of us. So with their genes, you can’t go wrong. Hopefully you’ll get my attractive-ness and awesome-ness somewhere in your DNA.

I love you, Miles, or whatever your name is, and I’m always here if you ever need me.

Marion