Dear Baby, (On Viability)

Hi Little Love.

Here we are together,
just a few days past viability.

We passed a milestone together recently; did you know that? It's called viability. Viability means that if you decide to be born anytime from here on out, your chances of survival (considering our easy access to advanced medical facilities) are greater than 50%. You get stronger every week, and so do the statistics on how well you would likely do outside of the protective confines of my uterus.

It may seem odd (or perhaps even bordering on morbid) that your Momma is writing to you about viability. But you see, I am both a scientific person and a spiritual one, so moving through this milestone in this pregnancy feels important to me on two levels:

It is statistically significant, which the logical side of me appreciates.

It is also not a guarantee, which the emotional side of me acknowledges reverently.

Life is a fragile thing, my sweet child, whether you're inside or outside my body. And these bodies we inhabit are only temporary homes for us; they do not last forever. I'm grateful for every single moment I have with you, and I know that in a lot of ways you are the safest you'll ever be right now as you roll around in my belly. This is also the simplest and easiest our relationship will ever be. I know now from parenting your brother that as much as I may want to preserve this mutual moment of relative safety and peace, what lies ahead for us is a wildly exciting and terrifying unknown.

Choosing to love another person is a risky undertaking. In my experience, while it has the potential to evoke some of the deepest feelings of pain, being connected in love is always worth it.

I love you already, and I always will. (Stay on the inside a while longer anyway, okay?)

Love,
Momma