To My Son {On My First Day of Maternity Leave}

To My Little Lion Baby,

Bent over in pain with small contractions coming and going yesterday, I was reminded of the week you were conceived. I left the reproductive endocrinologist’s office with you gently placed in my body, but with no guarantees as to whether or not you would be able to flourish and grow. Instructions for me included rest, stress-free days, minimal lifting/carrying, many hormone injections and patience as we waited for pregnancy results. And then your sister got sick. Sicker than she has ever been with days and nights of high fevers. And, in tears in the middle of the night, I asked the Lord how I could mother both of you. How could I rest for you? But simultaneously, how could I comfort and hold your sister through hours of feverish body aches?

And through my tears and exhaustion, His gentle whisper came. As it always does. The lyrics to a song that is always present if we care to listen.

“I am holding your children,” He said. All of them. The ones that are already in Heaven. The daughter in your arms. The baby in your body.

And I knew in that moment that as mother of multiple children that I would always have to make choices as to who needed me the most in each moment and then trust that your ultimate care was in our Heavenly Father’s hands. Not an easy lesson. Not one that I’ve mastered or even come close to understanding yet.

But, despite the sleepless nights, you thrived, and now I’m nearly 39 weeks pregnant with you. I’ll be honest. I want you out. Want you in my arms. Want to snuggle you through the night. Want to fit into my shoes again. Want the pubic pain to end. Want the weeks of contractions and false labor starts to finally bring your birth.

I am a humbling weepy mess.

And so, with the support of my amazing staff at Baby and Company birth center, I chose to make yesterday my last day at work. It is time to wait for you from the comfort of my bed. To read books with Abby without a newborn in my arms. To take naps when I can’t sleep at night. To clean. And cook. And write thank-you notes for shower gifts. (Or perhaps to do none of these things at all.) And definitely to stop stepping on the scale 😉

~~~

You were chosen, Baby Boy. Loved. The most extraordinary gift this Advent season could possibly bring. And with expectation we wait for your arrival.