Monday, August 12, 2013

To my future-ones

Hello you, whoever you are.

I cannot wait to meet you. I am just dying to finally hold you and know you and live every day with your sweet young self.

I don't much care who you turn out to be, as long as you're finally mine. There are just a few things I want for you:

I want you to be carried in my own womb, grown in my own body, a mysterious mixture of your father and me. I want to see his eyes and my hair and hopefully his gentle temperament and fierce loyalty blended perfectly into a person who's all you. I want to carry your weight and feel you kick and bring you into the world with my own sweat and pain and tears.

But I also want to find you, adopt you, bring you home and watch you grow from a perfect stranger to finally be my very own perfect someone. I want to see my heart rise up and shine out of your eyes as you use the compassion I will teach you. I want to see my old childhood dresses and old childhood games on a frame so different from my own. I want to earn your love, to rescue and protect you and to know that God's perfect plan has brought us together from the ends of the earth. I want to bring you into our family through sacrifice and faith and persistence and so much love.

I want to brush your hair with my fingers and rub your cheeks against mine. I don't care a bit what color they are, and I cannot wait to find out. You will be so beautiful to me.

I can already sense the wonder I will feel as I watch you learn to run and dance and love. I want to just watch you, being you, for hours on end. My eyes and my heart are aching as I imagine how you're going to look, and act, and be.

I want so many of you. I want boys and girls and twins and I want us all to tussle and love and protect each other forever. I want to sing to you and pray with you and lay in the grass watching clouds with you. I want to teach you so many things and learn from you. To read to you and travel with you and stay home under blankets and cuddle you. I want to chase you in parks and catch you in fields and tumble into streams with you. I want to wipe your tears and comfort you. I want to watch you sleeping and feel my heart burst at the seams with the very joy of you.

I'm waiting and hoping and praying for you, my little ones.

I'm imagining you right now in God's big kitchen; He's cooking you up just for me. He's planning our meeting with so much tender care. I just know He's got it all worked out. I'm trying to learn all I can while I wait, oh so impatiently, for that first time when we'll gaze at each other and finally recognize why it has to take so long.

Your father and I are just practicing away at loving, playing, forgiving, laughing, and learning. We're preparing ourselves daily for you. We are so often praying and sometimes crying for you. We are dying to see you grow up, to see who you'll become and what you'll decide to be. We're praying you'll be strong and healthy and safe, but also full of adventure and wildness and joy. We're praying you'll change the world with your love, your passion, and your hard work. God is going to use you, my darlings.

He's already used you to change us. We're changing just thinking about you.

I'll be dreaming of you, my future-ones, and wishing and waiting for you.
I love you so much already.
Come quickly.

Mom

6 comments:

  1. Me too. Tears and tears. Beautiful.

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  2. I'm bawling over here. My favorite part is God's big kitchen. The only part I'm having trouble with is "tumbling into streams...." that sounds very messy. The kind of thing most moms dread. As penance for all my mess freakouts, I PROMISE to go hiking with you and joyfully flop with you and your little one into the very first stream we see (glacier water excepted.)

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  3. This is SO beautiful, Dani. I'm sure that your children will treasure it someday :)

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