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Archive for February, 2013

But, then.

A love.

A marriage.

A plan, to wait. 5 years, for kids.

5 years, to offer time alone for us to grow.

5 years, to revel in the newness of marriage.

5 years, to travel as we pleased.

5 years, to sleep full nights of sleep.

5 years, to keep my body as only mine.

5 years, to build income for a new life.

5 years, to sort out our differences before taking on ownership of a whole new being.

5 years, to only have two people do to laundry for. Cook for. Care for.

5 years.

But, then.

A test.

A positive.

A baby?

A baby.

9 months.

9 months, to learn.

9 months, to grow. and grow. and grow.

9 months, to prepare.

9 months, of appointments.

9 months, of nursery talk.

9 months, of congratulations, and [wanted, and unwanted] advice.

9 months, of love growing every day.

But, then.

A baby.

A girl.

My Brooklyn.

Brooklyn, who completely changed my perspective on life.

Brooklyn, who made me overwhelmingly in love with motherhood.

Brooklyn, who smiled so much her mouth never closed!

Brooklyn, whose first word – and favorite person – was and is “Da da”.

Brooklyn, who never slept until after a year old.

Brooklyn, who makes me so proud every day.

Brooklyn, who is tenderhearted and funny.

Brooklyn, who grew our love so much, that we decided we wanted another baby.

A plan.

A plan, to try.

A plan, to give Brooklyn a sibling.

A plan, to grow our family.

But, then.

10 months.

10 months, of hoping for a baby.

10 months, of doctor’s visits.

10 months, of tests.

10 months, of uncertainty.

10 months, of aching.

10 months, of desiring a baby.

10 months, of negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test.

10 months, of emotional breakdowns.

10 months, of please everyone stop asking me “why we haven’t given Brooklyn a sibling” or “when are ya gonna have another one?”

10 months, of dancing between God’s sovereignty and my bitterness.

10 months, of reminding myself even if another child never came from my body, Brooklyn is 10,000 times the blessing we could have ever asked for.

But, then.

A moment alone.

Alone, eyes closed.

Alone, not ready to open my eyes.

Alone, listening.

Listening to Kari Jobe – “My Beloved”

Listening, to lyrics.

Lyrics, “I’ll breathe my life inside of you.”

Lyrics, “I’ll take you to my quiet waters, I’ll restore your soul.”

Lyrics, “Come rest in me and be made whole.”

A prayer, of giving up, or really…giving in.

Giving in, to a plan other than my own.

Giving in, to a road of uncertainty and being okay with it.

Giving in, to not stressing everyday over whether I am pregnant or will ever be.

Giving in, to the perfect plan that is His.

Giving in, that as soon as I open my eyes I am accepting another negative pregnancy test.

But, then.

But, then.

But, then.

A positive.

A positive, of life breathed inside of me.

A positive, of 10 months of restoring my soul for this specific moment.

A positive, that I must found whole in Him before being able to grasp any other wholeness I feel through others.

A positive, of which I can no longer contain my excitement.

A love. A marriage. A plan. 5 years. A positive. A baby. 9 months. Brooklyn. A plan. 10 months. Alone. Listening. Giving in. A positive.

And now, another 9 months. See you September 2013, sweetheart. I love you so much already.

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