Can you hear me typing on the computer keys? Can you hear Daddy's saw building your nursery? Did you hear me laughing about Uncle Dave downloading Tinder on his mom's iPad? Did you hear me crying when I heard more about our friend's cancer? Can you hear the new Iron and Wine album? The waves? The rain on the skylight? The German Shepard next door who only barks on Mondays? The sound of the Volvo when it drove away to another home? Could you feel me shaking out my boot to make sure there wasn't a black widow in it? Can you taste the cereal and soy sauce I eat? The spinach I'm drinking for you? What is it like in there? Are you going to say someday, "Mom. These letters are weird"? All I can tell you now is how we spent the time while we were waiting for you. And later you can tell me over and over again what life is like from your perspective.