Dear future child:
I don't yet know who you are, or even how you came into my life. In fact, I know literally nothing about you. You may be pale as Provolone cheese like me, or any one of the myriad colors in the human rainbow. Hearing or deaf, sighted or blind, who knows? And I won't bother about counting your fingers and toes - any number of digits is fine by me, so long as you're mine.
I don't know you, but I know what I want to give you.
I want to give you a Home, the kind of place that pops into your mind when you see corny throw pillows at Target that say "home sweet home" in a cliche font. I want you to feel warmth when you hear someone say, "home for the holidays", instead of a lonely pang.
I want to give you confidence. I want you to believe in yourself enough to try new things and learn new things without worrying about looking foolish. I want you to have the courage to be whoever you want to be in a world that often tries to press you into the wrong shape (not unlike the intestinal tract of a wombat, if you'll excuse my mind's incompatibility with any kind of glamor).
I want to show you the power of kindness, both through my own acts and through the acts of people my community.
I want to show you Star Trek: The Next Generation. You don't have to like it, but you do have to try it, like brussel sprouts.
And though it's not very seemly for a parent to have expectations for their child, I do have some ideas about what I'd like you to give me.
I'd like you to show me your way of looking at the world. I'd like to hear your laugh. I'd like to get to know you.
And I'd like you to show up in my life, already! Get a move on, kid. Just because I don't know you doesn't mean I can't miss you.
Love,
Your mom
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