This is it.
The last known *good* picture before I became an official (baby-on-the-outside) mother.
All the other pictures of the weekend involve swollen things. Ankles, Feet, Faces. And pictures of the triage room of REX Hospital.
This picture says so much to me. So much love we had (have) for each other.
So much anticipation. So much hope and excitement. So much humor in that when Lance said he wanted to graduate before babies… well, we just squeaked past that deadline.
So much we thought we knew that we were getting into.
It just so happens we had absolutely no idea.
I had absolutely no idea the way my heart would feel– so full it would burst when standing over their beds at night.
I had not a clue how hard it would be to see my own sin displayed in sweet cherubic faces… and not be convicted.
It had not entered my mind the hilarious joy we would find in bedtime dance parties on the dark, shiny floors.
I did not realize how hard it would be finish a thought, a conversation, a book… a cup of coffee. Nor did I think those things would matter as much as they sometimes do. Even less did I realize how guilty I would feel when the selfishness would creep in and steal my Mama-joy.
I did not know the depth of the joy.
Frankly, I did not know the depth of the sacrifice. Because it might come with the bite of the first (or 976th) saltine cracker; but the sacrifice goes on and on way past nausea and post-partum pains. If there is LOVE, there is always some degree of sacrifice.
And nothing. Nothing could have prepared me for the GRATEFULNESS which my heart knows.
We wake and we play and we learn and we go and we do…
And all the while, we count gifts. Thousands of them.
Stones of Remembrance. Mile Markers to HIS grace. Mental scrapbooks of all we have been given and blessed with.
I pray that the GRATEFULNESS we know is bigger and wider and longer than any other element of this Mama-Child Love.
And I am so very grateful that someone, two someone’s call me Mommy.