I tend to jokingly complain a lot about pregnancy stuff. Not because I'm not excited but I don't want to be one of those holier-than-thou, glowy, aren't-I-amazing-doing-something-so-miraculous women. Those types drive me nuts. I always want to scream that women have been doing this since the dawn of time... I'm pretty sure you're not doing something you're gonna get much credit for. Sure, we're growing humans (in a freaky mad scientist sort of way when you think about it), and it is miraculous... but it's nothing new.
However, you, yes, you, in there. I kind of am in love with you already. When no one else is around and I put my hands on my belly urging your insane dancing to finally make it's way to where I can feel it. When we have our little talks about behaviour and food choices. All those moments are just ours for now.
Your daddy reads these posts and tears up. So I'm certain that when he gets back he'll have his hands poking and pushing against your kicks and swirls. He'll lean down close and tell you stories (don't believe the insane one about getting lost in the woods and nearly dying... he tends to exaggerate... a LOT...you'll probably inherit that) and sing to you and read you great words that men and women long ago wrote.
We're both excited to just take our time with this. I mean, sure, I'm more than a little excited about pushing you out and getting to kiss your little head. But I'm in no hurry. You just take your sweet time in there. We'll be here when you come out.