To "Bob"

Dear Baby Brother-
We don't have a name for you yet, but your siblings call you "Bob," for some reason.
I thought maybe it would be therapeutic for me to write to you, since our only interaction is me waiting for you to move and wiggle.  Maybe this letter will help you know how much we love you already.

Today was a restorative day for all of us.  We went to our favorite beach here for the whole day.  Your siblings spent it almost entirely in the chilly Atlantic water, body-boarding in the waves, floating down the sea river that feeds into the ocean, building habitats for hermit crabs and shrimp, and meeting new and old friends in the surf.  William dug a big pit and oh! Anna desperately wanted to help!  Of course, a two year old helping to dig sand usually ends up as a two year old filling in a sand hole.  Anna got her feelings hurt.

But it all ended up ok.  Max took the reigns and helped William literally dig himself into a hole. Then, Max and Becca and Anna filled it back in with sand.  They put a bucket over William's head and it really looked like William had disappeared!

William is under there! 

Your dad played in the waves with all of your siblings for hours.  He is such a good dad.  Sometimes I cry because I worry you will never know him.  But then that's silly.  You will probably know him better than I do, seeing him from the other side.  I don't need to tell you what a lucky little boy you are to have him as your dad.  You probably already know.

Madi and I spent a good part of the day sitting in chairs together.  I read out loud to her.  I like to think that you could hear me, too.  I find it so comforting when I am with both of you together reading- my two children who need me most right now.  My doctor says you are literally surrounded by me, and that brings me immense peace.

Madi's having a hard time right now.  The immunotherapy for her brain cancer makes her really tired and sometimes kind of sick.  She just feels generally yucky even if she is getting 15 hours of sleep.  Will you watch out for her?  Can you help her through this, I wonder?  Something inside me tells me you two are connected in a special way.  I hope that's true. She really needs a "guy on the inside" right now, helping her in ways that we cannot.

We ended the day with a good-bye to summer trip to Dairy Queen where we talked about our favorite summer memories and ate ice cream.  We had a good summer, full of wonderful trips and ordinary days, playdates and projects, reading and cuddling, lots of singing "Let it Go" and "Fight Song."

I can still feel the sun on my face (probably because I got a sunburn :)), and feel almost like I can still hear the gentle cadence of the ocean in my ears.  Days like this one are gifts.  Do you remember the story of Frederick the mouse I read to Anna a lot, where he collects memories while all the other mice are collecting food for the winter?  When everyone is cold and lonely, Frederick pulls out his colorful memories and tells stories to the other mice.  You can't see the pages, but the memories are like colorful rocks, which all the mice see as Frederick tells his stories.  This is a colorful memory rock that I will pull out again and again when the winter is cold and hard.

I wish this gentle ocean cadence would ease me back to sleep.  I woke up in the middle of the night again.  I guess you know this happens a lot these days.  I flipped sides and didn't feel your little kicks like I usually do when I change position.  I guess I got worried, given the high risk of stillbirth with Trisomy 18.  I sat wide-eyed in the darkness for what felt like an hour (but really it was minutes) until I felt your soft hiccup and I breathed deep and imagined hugging you.

How it is possible for me to love you so much when I have never met you, I will never understand. Just know that I do. We all do.  William cried this week when he realized you may not ever be able to wear the shirt he just grew out of.  He comforted himself by talking about how you would be a ghost- like Zane in Ninjago.  Then he realized what a fantastic advantage that would be for our Knight ninja force, so he's dealing with it as well as any four year old can be expected to deal.

We have made it 30 weeks, little one.  My heart longs to hold you alive.  I hope you can make it another few weeks.  Stay with us as long as you can.  Oh how we long to show you the beach in person.  Just hang in there.  I like having you around.

All my love,
Mommy