Undulations

Dear L. Hawk,

Here continues a number of things I'd like you to know.  Since our conversations are generally one-sided at this time in your 35-week existence, I'll continue to create documented access to them in the event that I forget to tell you certain notions I'd like for you to consider someday.  If you're like your father, it's likely that a blog about thoughts and reactions to life may not be the top literary fodder of your choosing.  You may dig music blogs, far out graphic design, and science fiction fantasy worlds best.  If you're like your mother, you will like reading (and maybe writing) about what living things inspire hours of contemplation and their relation to you as a unique little human.  You could be either of us, some of us, or very little of us.  Regardless, we already find you more fascinating than the most righteous otherworldly fantasy universe and endless spiral of thoughts into the "Why is this the way it is?"-dimension COMBINED.

I should come clean.  I think so much all the time about things I want to tell you, that I'm pretty sure I won't forget them when we finally get to talk.  That's one thing you should know ahead of time.  I'll tell you about the same things often if I think it is worth doing so.  Your father can attest to this.

To further the previous point, your physical strength is still something of a marvel.  You can powerfully control the shape of my round stomach as if it is as effortlessly movable as silly putty is in the hands of a five-year old.  It goes from round to misshapen in seconds and stays that way until you decide to manipulate it back to its original position.  You can kick right, arm swing left within seconds of the first movement.  It seems obvious to me what you're doing but others can't see it as well because they don't stare at my stomach the way I do.  You never hurt, you're just intense and sometimes surprising.   

Another thing: while lying in bed between rapid-fire jarring, scary, or monotonous pregnancy dreams, I sometimes wake up and think of something or someone else you should know.  Your great grandma Ruth was one such someone.  She was a beautiful woman: a very patient and affirming grandmother.  She was reverently pious (as opposed to sanctimonious) and a good wife and mother.  She helped to build a very strong foundation for me to build from.  I'm eternally grateful to her and unwavering in my recognition of certain truths thanks in large part to her influence.  She made your aunt Kimmy and I picklecicles (sweet AND dill), and had a large brown bathing suit she'd wear when we'd finally convince her to come swim with us.  For lunch, she fixed tuna fish English muffin sandwiches tailored to our preferences.  She wanted us to "find something quiet to do" while she finished Grandpa Charlie's business statements.  She tapped her brakes with an unnecessary frequency while driving.  You would've loved her.

Non-cohesive streaming thought #82: If family planning was/ were (insert whatever is the correct rule for conditionals) totally up to us, it would be our intention that you not be an only child for various reasons.  I won't go into them here, but you should know that there are others who will also be the centers of our universe as this blog's summary suggests.  The main center is the other determinant in whether or not there will be more Emmerts.  God's plan trumps all others.  We hope we'll get more of you, though, because we love you.

I should stop writing now.  I think you may need a protein boost so you can keep up the hard work of kicking around, building body mass, and hiccuping when necessary.

Tons of Love,
Mom