Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

Every time I think about what a gift you are, I remember how afraid I was when I found out you were growing inside me. Afraid to get too excited or hope for too much more, like God was only giving me a glimpse before He quickly removed you from me.

You see, baby, I don't know God at all.

Even after all this time. The few but long years of calling Him my King have not left me much more hopeful that I used to be.

You see, I'm afraid to hope.

Because I'm afraid to lose.

So many times I feel you moving around and I smile and put my hand on my belly and wait for your kick kick kick. I can still hardly believe you're in there.

And you're perfect.

The doctor said so herself.

And I love you so much that it scares me.

Much like I love your little brothers and daddy; with a fierce and consuming love that is incomprehensible.

And a love like that is scary.

So much to hold onto. So much to lose.

It's hard sometimes to reconcile the joy and peace I have when I feel you move with the worry and fear I have about so many "what ifs" and circumstances beyond my control. Being a mom is an amazing, frightening, wonderful job. It's still difficult for me to believe that God has allowed me to be a mother three times now.

But you see, there He is, hearing my prayers, searching my soul, knowing my heart, guiding my steps, even when I'm afraid. Maybe especially when I'm afraid.

And you know what?

He's doing that for you, too.

Already.

Even though you may not know it yet, you have been fearfully and wonderfully made, baby. You were created just for me and Daddy; a special order intended only for us. You are the answer to so many prayers and so much longing. You, baby, were wanted and hoped for.

We can't wait to hold you, little one.

Until then, I will hold on to the joy I feel with each kick, and smile every time you have the hiccups, and rest in knowing that God has a plan for me, and for you.

With Love,
Mommy