Lunch with Dad

Hi Dad,
I've been writing letters to you on Thursdays for a little while in my journal, but thought I would start putting them down here.  Maybe I can keep track of what I'm saying better, and maybe I won't tell you the same things over and over again.  How annoying is that? :)
If we were having lunch today, I'd have so much to tell you about.  I didn't write to you last week, but last Thursday was the "big" ultrasound when they told us officially that we would be having a baby girl.  You already knew that though.  I talked to you about it the day before you passed.  I told you to watch out for her.  Do you know her?  Are you taking good care of her for me?  I know you two will always have a special bond.  I knew the minute that I said to you, "watch out for 'her'" that it was a girl.  I knew that you already knew too.  I was only 7 weeks pregnant, but I could sense your spirit telling mine that it was true.
It's funny how you can know something, yet still fight it's truthfulness. I guess that's true in many regards of life.  I didn't dare think that I could actually have a girl.  I mean, it took you and mom 4 boys before you got to me.  I guess I thought that was the path I would take too.  By the way, 5 kids?!  How did you ever?  I know you would say that mom did it all, but she was telling me the other day the gift you had for just standing and rocking us as babies for hours.  I remembered you doing that with Rockwell when he was just tiny.  Poor kid just cried so much, but you could always get him to calm down and he would just stare up at you as you gently bounced him up and down.
I had to go to the emergency room on July 2.  I was so scared I was going to lose her, I feel this tie to her, that makes me feel closer to you.  If I had lost her, I'm scared I would have felt like I was losing another piece of you.  In the same regard, I can't wait to hold her in my arms in a few months, so I can feel just another moment closer to you.  I miss you dad, in the worst possible way.  It hurts.  I just want you back.  I want to do all the things we talked about for your retirement.  I want you to come hang out at my house anytime you want.  I want you to tell me when I'm doing dumb things.  I adhered to your opinion probably more than any other in my life.  I just want you around.  I miss your voice.  I wish so badly we could talk over lunch.
This afternoon, I'll see the doctor again.  He'll go over the ultrasound with me.  I'm finding myself a complete mess, and completely calm.  How can that be possible?  Am I just worrying because that is what pregnant ladies do?  And man, this nesting thing. I felt like a pretty sane person when I was pregnant with the boys, but this is a whole different game I'm playing here.  I have these crazy projects all lined up in my mind.  It's too much, I know.  I find myself stuck between this want (which pregnancy is insisting is a need) to get these things done, and knowing that I need to take care of myself and more importantly this baby.  I know what you would tell me to do.  Get that grandbaby here. :)

I love you, dad.  I'm feeling all the hurt and loss that I felt the day you passed, but coming more to terms with the fact that it is, in fact, real and that I will need to accept it.  Don't rush me.  I'll get there when I'm ready, you already know that about me though.
See you next Thursday,
Amy