de-personalise.

i've always envisioned your little body in the arms of your great-grandfather. and i wanted that picture taken and displayed proudly on my work desk. who knew, you'd be the first to see and embrace him. and you'd better listen to everything he says and learn.

i don't know what i'm crying about. your father and i love each other very much and i am sorry. i'm not ready and i don't know if i'll ever be. you will have absolutely nothing to worry about, you're going to be in great hands. and i envy you. i don't want to know you but i feel you. i know you're in there and i am sorry. 

before you go, you should know that your father has a big, big heart. he has the widest smiles and the kindest eyes. he is so kind and gentle and i somehow got lucky. 

your mother, however, is taking baby (ha!) steps to be a somewhat acceptable version of herself. you can laugh or you may hate her but know that she is fighting herself every day to take her next breath. may you inherit her luscious locks (before she recklessly chemically damaged them) and her nice teeth (haha!). 

may you not be afraid of injections and frogs. may you have many healthy cats to feed and care for. and may you especially be kind to yourself as you would to others. 

this will likely be the first and only time we talk and i am grateful, for your presence has been valuable. 

until we meet again.