Once upon a time I had everything figured out, said no one—ever. Okay maybe that is a little bit harsh. We do certainly drum up some brilliant ideas though, am I right? I had decided early on that I was the ideal candidate to be a ‘boy Mommy’. I told my parents, my friends, anyone who would listen that I intended to have 3 boys and that was that. Drawing from my deep well of tween knowledge, I had come to the conclusion that girls were much to dramatic, they inflicted too much pain on each other, and the last thing on this wild green earth that I wanted to do was deal with more girly feels.
So, fast forward to my early married years and one missed period later, and little did I know that my own little rosebud of a daughter was beginning to bloom right inside me. I laugh to myself now about how God knew just what I needed and whenever I hear future parents talk about their dream family, I smile inside knowing they will get exactly what was meant to be for them, even if they don’t already know it.
When Stu and I found out we were expecting baby #2, I once again had sorted it all out in my mind. By that point I was deeply entrenched in four years of tutus, plastic high-heels, pink dryer lint, and everything else that intrinsically comes with mothering a little girl. Sooooo—obviously God smiled upon my entire first baby clothing hoarding, and was ready to expand our family with yet another little ‘she warrior.’
Then one evening after a long day and an even longer high-risk pregnancy ultrasound, I clutched a small red envelope. My hubs has to travel periodically for his job and in this circumstance he was in California on the gender reveal day, so me and all my cray cray feels had to keep it VERY real all day waiting for him to get back from a long flight so we could rip open the ‘genderlope’ which would reveal a sonogram photo with our new little girl tucked safely inside.
When much to my wondering eyes should appear—CONGRATULATIONS! It’s a BOY!
When you become a parent, it takes a sledge hammer to all your preconceived ideas, and there in the rubble of what you thought you really wanted you find something even better—what you actually needed.
I’m not going to sugar-coat it. The NICU days were hard. My time spent there was holy ground. The prayers that were prayed around those isolette beds reminded me why I need: JESUS. An isolette is amazing. It helps control heat, humidity, and oxygen levels for a fragile premature infant, but it also does its job well in another painful way–it isolates you and your baby. These moments are not easily explained, so it is with a full heart I share these pictures that my talented husband took. To think that in the midst of his own feels and trauma he captured our family so tenderly–melts my heart. No one dreams of introducing their child to their sibling in an incubator, but I’m here to tell you, these two are twin hearts beating as one. They adore each other and all that talk about Mommies who don’t nurse immediately–I can tell you from personal experience breast milk or formula–healthy babies is what matters and I couldn’t love my little bears more. Babies join families in so many different ways, but at the end of the day, the big take away is the love that remains. The love that keeps showing up day after day.
So I am a ‘boy Mom’ and a ‘girl Mom’ and I’ll forever be grateful for my tiny miracles that are anything but small. They are larger than life in every way. They are my heart, and irrefutably precisely what I needed.
Happy Birthday, my darling boy!