Dear baby.

This week your father and I have been (not so) patiently waiting for you. All we talk about is when you might arrive, who you will look like, and how much we love you.

Your father had a dream the other night that we were in Paris and you two were walking around saying "wee wee!" to passers by. A few nights before that, he dreamt of your birth and woke up in tears. He constantly talks about how he can't wait to take you to University with him and show you off to his friends. Everyday he begs me to go into labour. He really can't wait for you to be here. Even looking at your clothes brings him to tears. The love he has for you is un measurable.

I'm just as excited to meet you, but if I'm being honest, I'm a little terrified too. I'm very anxious about if I have what it takes to be a good mother. I don't take my role as your mum lightly and I don't want to ever disappoint you, your father or myself. I want to be the best that I can be for you, because you're everything to me. I love you so much and I haven't even met you yet.

Please hurry. I'm not sure how much longer I can wait.

Love, mama.