I hope 50 years from now in a beaten up novel, one of these photographs will be found. Worn and wrinkled. I hope it marks a favorite passage, in the novel or course, but also in time. Photographs are really pieces of time. I hope the finder is this baby, still stowed away in her mother's womb. I hope she sees the peacefully look on her mothers face, and that goofy grin her father always got when he was in her presence. I hope the love felt in the photographs reaches out to her and reminds her of days gone by, and how sweet her existence is. I hope it brings back memories faded and turns her lips upward in a smile.
...But in the mean time. We hope this little one arrives soon. We are all so anxious to meet her.