Tomorrow.

As most of you know, I've been following the pregnancy of my friend Nicole since the beginning. She's had such a difficult time, learning LittleD was sick. Waiting for a ,diagnosis and prognosis'. Doctors who held out little hope of improvement.

I've marvelled at her strength, he positivity. He belief in the child she carries. The certainty that this baby would be ok, would fight and that there would be a happy ending.

I read, tears welling in my eyes, as appointment after appointment left her frightened, depressed and doubting herself. I had butterflies in my stomach before each scan, feeling her nerves, wishing I could provide any comfort to her as she awaited news of her baby's progress.

I cried out in joy when a scan revealed that things had, in fact, changed for the better. That somehow, probably through alternative treatments Nicole had pursued, LittleD had shown some improvement. That maybe, maybe things would be just fine.

And now, it's time. Almost certainly, Nicole will be rewarded for her faith, her hope and her love for this baby. Tomorrow, she will hold him or her in her arms, and her heart will swell, filling up with love. She will look adoringly at the tiny creature in her arms, and commit to memory every sound, every time those eyes look at her as if to say "Oh. I know you. You're the one who's been looking after me all this time. Thank You".

Tomorrow, her family will welcome, with jubilation and relief, it's newest member.

You probably won't get to read this until you're home, Nicole. But nevertheless, from my family to yours, from one mother to another. I'm with you. I'm thinking of you. I'm praying for a peaceful, calm entry for a baby who's already had enough excitement. I pray for a beautiful, beautiful birth. For tonight, for the last time in this pregnancy, take a moment. Place your hands on that beautiful belly of yours. Feel LittleD. Reminisce about all of his kicks, his somersaults. The energy and hope you've focused onto him or her these past months. Enjoy your last night together in this blessed way.

Good luck, my friend. I don't for a moment imagine you'll need it. So, instead, take my best wishes, my friendship and this enormous cyber hug. We'll all be waiting with you.