Hi little love. You're 10 weeks along today--amazing! My pregnancy app tells me you're the size of a prune. A whole prune! I love that your tiny arms already bend at the elbow, and your heart is just hammering away in your little chest. I wonder who you're going to be. I wonder what your personality will be like. I wonder if you'll have blonde hair, like dad, or brown hair, like me? I wonder if you'll be super even keel, or have a temper (truly sorry in advance if you inherit that particular trait of mine.) It's starting to feel real, this fact of you. I think about future things, and can picture you there. For the record, I'm picturing you as a girl, so if you end up being a boy, sorry about that. I picture Halloween and pumpkins on the porch, and dressing you up as something ridiculously cute. It will be the smallest costume in the history of ever, for our teeny not-even-two-month-old. And I picture Christmas, and our first Christmas together as a family of four (Scout totally counts, and we're hoping with all hope that he loves you as much as we do!)
Sometimes when I'm getting dressed, I look down at that teeny growing bump, and it hits me all over again. You're really in there. Nestled in your cocoon, safe from the world. And while we're so excited to meet you and hold you, it's terrifying, too. Terrifying to think of bringing a precious little baby into this world, with all its terror and hate. Sometimes my breath catches, just thinking about all the things that can go wrong, now and forever. I think maybe this is what it feels like to be a mama; to feel so powerless about all the things that might happen, and to have to totally and completely rely on Jesus' strength and trust in His will for your life.
I think often about Mary, and how she experienced this very thing. She, too, was once 10 weeks along. I wonder if she felt the same feelings, if mamas of babies since the beginning of time have felt these feelings. Excitement, anxiety, nervousness, thrills, and complete, obliterating, all-consuming love and awe at what's taking place. I wonder if she thought about what kind of mom she would be. I think about it, too. Am I going to yell? Probably. But I hope to hug more than I yell. Am I going to freak out about my house being a mess constantly? Probably. But I hope to give myself grace to let it go, and read to you instead. Speaking of reading to you, we've already started! You can't tell yet, but sometime soon you'll recognize our voices. I read "Paddington Bear" to you, and dad read you "The Three Little Javalinas" which is way better than the Three Little Pigs. Someday we'll take you to Arizona, and then you'll understand what a javelina is. We have a whole huge bookshelf of books that I can't wait to share with you. I pray a lot of big prayers for you, but I pray some little ones too. "Lord, please make them a reader!"
Another week closer to meeting you, little muffin. It's crazy to think we're already a quarter of the way through. You're so teeny, and yet the mark you've already made on my life is so huge. You made a me a mom. I'm grateful every day.