Sweet Baby #2...

Dear Little One,

I can't believe you have been in my tummy now for twelve. whole. weeks.

I remember the day I hit ten weeks and realized it was the furthest we had gotten in our pregnancy since Swee'Pea and I cried tears of joy.

Knowing you were safe.  Knowing you were growing.  Knowing you were going to be ours.

We've followed your life at every step.  

From the the time you were a tiny little egg to now, you have been loved, adored, and so desperately wanted.

At our first ultrasound when we couldn't see you and you were still making your way along the crazy path you had to take to get to my womb I remember silently praying to God, "Please.  Please let this one be okay."

And God granted my prayer.

He gave me incredible peace, and so much joy I feel like my heart could burst.

And the next week your daddy held my hand as I waited with heart pounding for you to show yourself.

And there it was.

Tiny but strong.

A heartbeat.

And I couldn't hold back my tears.

Through weekly appointments and long nights of insomnia and morning sickness and night sickness and all. the. time. sickness and shot after shot after shot I have never stopped being grateful for the gift that you are.

And yesterday when your big brother and I went in for my last fertility appointment and saw you dancing and moving on the screen he clapped his hands and could not stop saying, "This is awesome!  This is so awesome!" and I again thanked Jesus for you.  

Over and Over.

I have never stopped thanking Jesus for you.

You are such a miracle, sweet baby.

A miracle on this often dark and desperately sad Earth.

A miracle from a good and gracious God I wish more people knew.

A miracle I pray is a light to all who get the privilege of someday meeting you.

And although my arms have ached to hold my own baby for so many, many years, I am content to hold you in my womb for six months longer.

Six months of just me and you.

Six sweet months of just me and you.

I love you to the moon and back.

love, Mama.

Weeks six, seven, eight, and ten ultrasounds.

Excuse the nastiness of weeks nine and ten.  I spent most of those weeks with my BFF the toilet.