Part 3 – The Third Trimester
Dear Baby Mac,
Well, you made your dad’s life!
You kicked so hard that he felt it. Actually, you probably aren’t kicking any harder than you used to, but you’ve grown, and you are filling out your living quarters. You are two and a half pounds and about sixteen inches long.
The baby books also say that you can dream.
I’m pretty sure that’s what you do all day.
You’re already like a teenager.
Or possibly a vampire, waking only at night.
But, so far, I haven’t craved blood like Bella, so I think we’re okay.
Danny and Lori came over for dinner the other night with baby Devaney. Danny was loaded down like a pack mule. I found it hard to believe that a teeny baby could need so much stuff.
But I think they do.
I’m really not nervous about taking care of you physically. I babysat and understand basic baby care, like changing diapers, burping, bathing, and feeding.
But I’m worried about the emotional side of it.
When does the joy of becoming a parent turn you into a stressed-out mess?
Does it happen after a few weeks of not getting enough sleep? Will I start shouting orders at Phillip to get your rocker set up?
And what if your grandma is right about letting a baby cry so that it can learn to calm itself?
I know Lori got mad when we compared her baby to our puppy, but we used to have a hard time getting Angel to settle down at night. She wanted to just run around and play. Now, we give her a bully stick. It almost acts like a pacifier. She chews and chews, and pretty soon, she can’t keep her eyes open.
I want to teach you to calm yourself down. I want to teach you everything you need to know how to do in life.
But what if I screw it up?
How do you care for your baby emotionally?
Actually, I think I know the answer. I should do what my parents did.
They loved me.
That’s what you need.
Unconditional love.
And, you, Baby Mac, now have a name—if you are a girl.
It’s Haley James Mackenzie.
Isn’t that pretty?
