Wednesday, December 08, 2010

Dear Little One...

I wish I knew your name. We haven't decided yet. That's one of the hard things of not knowing if you are a boy or girl. There is so much energy and heart involved in picking a name. It's so hard to do it for both boy and girl names. are known. I know you right now as Squiggly McGee, because you are so much squirmier than I remember your brother or sister being. Last night I was sitting and I think you were just thumping your foot or something inside of me, because there was just a repetitive "thump, thump, thump" on my left side...but always near the top. Hunter loves to feel you move. His eyes light up when he sees or feels you move. I can't wait to see how Millie and Hunter respond to you. They express such delight already.

Dear one, I love you. I spend more time wondering what you are like inside of me. How big are you at this point (32 weeks)? Will you be as big as your brother and sister? Will you have their (and my) eyes? Are you a little sister or brother? Hunter most often guesses sister, and Millie most often guesses brother. I think that's funny.

I feel a little fragile as these final weeks of pregnancy approach. Christmas always makes me a little more emotional, but I also know that the full experience of you in this life is not a given. In the past few years I know of those close and far from me who have experienced terrible loss...and I know your life is not to be taken for granted. Perhaps that is why this pregnancy has been different. As Jesus was born at Christmas, he was born to face awful, horrific circumstances. Betrayal and the worst possible of deaths. Although none of us will experience what our Lord went through for us, I am reminded today that you are not promised protection from tragedy. We are not promised protection from horror...but we are promised a Savior who came at Christmas who is a refuge and strength and offers perfect peace.

I pray for a full experience of you in this life...for many, many wonderful years (yep. there's that little kick on my left side).

Seriously, squirmy...what are you going to be like? What will I be like? I want nothing more than you this Christmas...and I will wait patiently and expectantly. I will know you by name and by face and fingers and toes and by the many nuances that are only and all yours. Delight.

For now, I will watch you squirm and wait...and love you more and more.

Love, Mommy