Month One: June

Dear Sir,

You don’t know me, but that’s okay, because I don’t know you either. But all that’s about to change.

You see, I’m about to become a very special person in your life. In fact, next to your wife, THE most important.

I’d tell you about myself, but I really don’t know a whole lot at this point. Suffice to say when you finally meet me, it will be love at first sight!

Your wife has told me all about you, and I’m looking forward to getting acquainted. We’ll be spending lots of time together and you’ll teach me all sorts of things.

Even though I don’t know you all that well, “sir” seems a bit formal. If it’s all right with you, I’ll just call you “Daddy” instead.

See you in about eight months!

With love,

Baby McAllister


In a fit of maternal longing I wrote the preceding letter to Chip years ago to announce, whenever it should finally happen, that we were going to have a baby. This morning, after years of watching our friends pop out progeny like toaster pastries, I finally got to give it to him!

I cried when the window of the pregnancy test formed a second pink line. We’ve been waiting over a decade for this baby, which means our friends quit asking a long time ago if we were ever going to have kids. (I’m pretty sure they think our pipes are clogged, but in actuality we just decided to focus on our careers first.) It also means I had lots of time over the years to dream and plan and think up a memorable way to announce that we were expecting. So while Chip was in the shower, I ran to my desk and fished out the letter I’d written so long ago from its hiding place beneath a stack of stationery and slipped it in with the rest of the mail.

When he spotted my handwriting on the envelope, his eyebrow lifted. “Ellie, what’s this?”

I shrugged and smiled. “Open it.”

As he started to read, he looked up, clearly puzzled. Determined not to let him ruin the beautiful moment I’d envisioned all these years, I shook my head and pointed him back to the letter. Before long his eyes grew round. By the time he reached the end, we both were blubbering. He called me over to his chair for a hug and pressed his mouth against my abdomen to speak to our baby, causing me to cry all the more.

“Hey there! This is your daddy. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to see you. Make sure you grow big and strong, and don’t give your mother any trouble. Love you! Daddy out.”

He later surprised me with a bouquet of flowers and this private blog, which he set up for me under the pretense of having to do some additional work for his boss.

For now, we’ve decided to tell no one. Not my coworkers at the newspaper, not his colleagues at the airlines, not our friends, not even our families. We plan to let our parents know July 19 after our first prenatal appointment with Dr. Simmons.

By the way, our gardenia bush bloomed today for the first time this year. A single, perfect, fragrant white blossom.