imagine me

dearest ethan,

 my goodness. you kick, punch, roll, slide, i don't even know what, all the time now. if i go half an hour without feeling you move, it's weird. i've read that new moms feel "phantom kicks" after their baby is born, and i can totally understand why. sometimes i do take it for granted, but most of the time i'm in awe. i gape at my rolling, moving stomach. it's crazy! it's something you will never experience. but maybe someday you'll get married and your wife will get pregnant and then you can look at her moving belly and know. you did this to me one time. and it was incredible. i have dreams about you being born, where i see your face and your eyes and your whole body. two nights ago i had the most vivid one where you were born and they put you on my chest and you raised your head up and looked me right in the eye. the whole room went quiet, and i waited. i expected you to speak. you looked like you had known me all along, and you had just been waiting until you were born to tell me something. you didn't even cry. i am still waiting for you to say something. i guess i will be waiting for a while longer. i do  know that whatever you have to say, i can't wait to hear.