Your mom is having one of those days, kiddo, where all I want is to be your mom, and to be through these next few months that stand between us. I don’t want to wish them away though…I know I’ll miss your flips and flops and taps–the way you make decisive movement as if to tell me something before you even have a voice.
You already make me laugh.
Yesterday, in church, you seemed so excited about the music and all of the great big sounds that I wasn’t sure I could contain you. I laughed out loud a little every time you kicked and rolled, and it made your daddy laugh, too. You do love music. When I sing, play the radio, watch a movie with a good soundtrack, you’re right there moving along. Soon, we’ll sing together at night before bed, and in the mornings when you wake up.
I’ll teach you all of my favorite songs.
Already, I would pull down the moon for you, cross oceans for you, give away everything I have for you. It makes no difference if you are a boy or a girl, little or big, quiet or loud. I love you as far and as wide as I know how.
You’ll teach me even more about love.
I can’t understand how you started out so small and now, you have eyes that can almost open and shut, ears that hear, strong arms and legs, and that little button nose. I can’t wait to meet your sweet, sweet face.
You are going to change our world.
You already have, and are doing so every day. When I look back, all of this time and the way you have filled me up will be so perfect in my memory. You are as tangible and precious and miraculous as anything I have ever known.
I am so grateful to be becoming your mother as you are becoming.
love. in the most extravagant of ways,