You should know this.

You came before you were expected. Way before. And it took me a couple of weeks before I stopped holding my breath randomly at moments, lost in a cloud of worry and frustration. I felt sick. I felt weak. I felt unprepared. So instead of facing the reality of your appearance head on, I let it trickle in slowly, as I felt I could handle it. At first it was just survival mode... trying to keep myself from throwing up my food or waking up every hour, anxious and restless. Then I started ignoring it all. Ignoring my rapidly growing belly and my bad skin and strange dreams.

People tried to convince me of my good fortune.

"Oh they'll be best friends!"

"You're so blessed to even have babies!"

"You can be done with the baby stage all at once!"

I repeated them to myself daily, and although I saw their merit, I still felt like I was standing on shaky ground. I felt guarded. I felt afraid. They just weren't convincing me the way they wanted to, though I pretended they were.

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At around 11 weeks pregnant, I felt a flutter. I second-guessed myself because... I mean... there's no way. And us women who have already been through pregnancy kind of roll our eyes at the first-time pregg0rz women and their announcements of symptoms, because we're like, "Yeah yeah, wait until you're 30 weeks pregnant, buddy." I'm not saying it's nice or fair. You earn your own badge of nutty ridiculousness in your pregnancy, and then you watch other people earn theirs and you feel all righteous like, "There's no WAY she could be showing yet. She's 8 seconds pregnant. Nauseous already? Yeah right."

It's just a thing.

But in all of the tiredness, the gagging at random things, the strange pulling sensations, the emotional outbursts... I haven't really allowed myself to pause. And exhale. And think about you, separately, apart from Billy and apart from Everly. When I daydream of you, it's always in context of the family... what Everly will be teaching you, how she'll be treating you.

Today while I was putting some towels in the dryer, I felt movement again. A lot of people told me that movement would feel like butterflies with Everly - but it never really did. It always felt like popcorn or maybe a frog... I don't know... I called it fluttering but I never understood the butterfly description. But today I stopped and smiled, and rubbed my belly in the place where I felt a little butterfly spread it's wings. It was just me and you in that moment.

My baby. My little baby in there growing strong. I am falling in love with you. Be patient with me. I have less time to daydream... less time to marinate... but I have a feeling I won't need as much time with you. You're going to grow on me quickly. You're making your presence known already.

In the end, the only convincing I needed was from you... and it started with a flutter.