Yes you, you in there, the one who keeps kicking me, and whose hiccups I'm feeling all the time (are you drinking in there??), and whose sonogram started out looking a bit like a kidney bean and now looks like, well, nearly a baby: how are you?

I'm ready for you. I didn't think I would be - I'm doing this on my own, and I was afraid and worried and overwhelmed, and now I'm just ready for you.

I wasn't always sure I'd get to have you. After all, it wasn't so long ago that gay people were being told they couldn't be married, couldn't have kids, couldn't be accepted and loved.

But here we are, kid, you and me, and I'm doing this, we're doing this, and I'm ready for you.

I sure hope you're ready for me. It's not going to be easy, I'm sure, having a gay mom, but I promise to love you and respect you and care for you (and hug the SQUISH out of you for as long as you'll let me), and to protect you as best as I can from everything, including anyone who tells you that your mom shouldn't be your mom because she's gay.

I wish we had already evolved more as a species so I could be more sure you wouldn't hear comments like that, but I want us both to be prepared. And I am.

Like I said - I'm ready for you.

Boy, I sure hope you're ready for me!

I love you already,