Hey baby girl,
It’s Father’s Day, and 6 weeks before you’re due for your grand entrance (or as I like to think, your grand exit). You’re the size of a pineapple right now, and you’ve already got a lot of spunk, doing regular acrobatics in my tummy. Your dad is jealous that he hasn’t been able to bond with you the way I have, but he’s just as excited as I am to meet you on the outside. Whenever he thinks about how close we are to D-Day (deliver day), a surge of emotion comes over him, and he goes into a frenzy of getting our affairs in order to prepare for your arrival. It’s quite endearing.
Though your father’s been making dad jokes and rocking the dad bod long before you came onto the scene (photographic proof below), it’s still weird for me to think of him as a dad. I think it’s because he and I have only known each other for less than four years, and during that time, we fast-tracked through friendship, relationship, engagement, marriage, and are now expecting. The role that he plays in my life seems to be ever changing, but still, he is undoubtedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sure he’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to you too.
Over the course of your life, I’m sure you’ll hear many of our life stories, but today, I want to start from the beginning and tell you about me and your father’s beginnings.
Your dad and I met in the summer of 2013, when I went to LA to visit Uncle Chris. Uncle Chris didn’t have a car, so he hit up the only friend he had at the time—your father—to chaffeur us around in exchange for some free drinks. A weak proposition, I thought. But your father saw a friend in need and the opportunity to show a stranger (me) his hometown, and agreed! That summer, the three of us cruised LA, and road-tripped up and down the California coast, and it was the time of my life. Uncle Chris, your father, and I would become lifelong friends, and I didn’t know it then, but me and your father would become much more than that.