Little Man Letter

Hey Little Man,

I know it's not a Monday. But I missed you. Please don't think I don't write to you because I am not thinking about you. Certainly that is not the case. In fact, sometimes I don't write to you because I think of you so often. It makes it silly to sit and write you a letter because you are always in my thoughts, right there with me in the adventure. Other times I don't write you because you are so near to my thoughts that it hurts to think this will be one more letter in a series that won't make it to your "memory" book for years.  So why don't I write to you every week? Because you write your way into my life every day.  But I always, always love you.

Today I am sipping coffee and doing housework and reading before I head to work. Dad is at work. The dishwasher is humming. The washer and dryer are whirring. Coldplay is playing and the TV is off. And it is so quiet, aside from Gabby rooting around looking for pieces of last night's dinner on the floor. It's here where it's hard to even imagine how you'll change my life.  How this time of quiet and solace and peace will seem like it never had time to happen. And I think after all this waiting there will be a piece of me that wishes it never did.

Even now, I can picture your curly head zooming around my feet with matchbox cars.  I picture the way you'll run up, asking me to tie your shoe, breaking my train of thought. The way you'll help me load the dishwasher and in your helping it will take us twice as long but we'll be together.  The way I'll leave a little earlier for work to get you where you're going. The puffy way your coat will surround your hopefully growing belly and the way it will take us a while to get it zipped because you won't want to stand still.  And we'll giggle together and learn each other and hopefully fall more in love with Jesus together.

I guess what I'm saying is I can't wait for you to get here. In the waiting I think of how different life will be and I hope you'll be patient with me.  This family thing--it's going to be new for you.  Or at least THIS family.  Well, all of it is going to be new for you. English and puppies and snow and all kinds of new food.

But do you know what we haven't talked about? How THIS family thing? It will be new for me too. Your dad and I are a family to be certain. But we will be a whole new family when you arrive.  And I will need some help adjusting, too.  Little Man, if you were here I'd ask you to give me grace. I'm going to screw up a little. A lot. I am going to be selfish when I need to be selfless. I am going to think I'm doing the right thing but it's really not going to be. I am going to get frustrated when I should really be patient. And so, we've got a lot to learn together.

I love you, little guy.  Dad and I are currently figuring we'll meet you in a year and a half. Maybe two years. Yup, that's how much you're worth it. We keep trekking.  You're worth it to God, too. He sets the lonely in families, you know. And do you know what he knows that the world doesn't know? The lonely? It's your dad and me too. We're lonely without you. We know you belong here with us. And we can't wait for him to set you in our family and us in yours.

Praying for you on this snowy Wednesday in March. Love you, IC.

mom