Dear Future, Next Child of Mine,
Well, I know you have yet to be conceived, but I know you can hear me. You currently reside as a twinkle in your Father’s eye and a dream in your dear Momma’s heart, and from such a spectacular place I hope you’ll hear my words to you. For they come to you on the wings of love.
We’ve been doing a lot of thinking about you, wondering when would be the right time, or if there even was such a thing. We prayed, and then we just listened for a while.
We listened to the raucous laughter of your older sisters, and I’ll admit it was hard to hear anything over that deafening roar. We’ve been really busy listening to our hectic life, but somewhere in the back of our minds and hearts we still heard you.
You would whisper to me, “one more Momma.”
I would usually smile at the thought, but then I would become distracted by the cries of a toddler falling down or the frustrated groans of a four year old’s tantrum. I’ve been pretty busy.
When I would stand there staring at my sleeping daughter, and I would feel like my heart was going to explode with pride you would softly say in my ear, “look at what you made. Do it again.”
You could be pretty persistent really. As I folded out-grown, baby clothes to put away in dark boxes you would soothe me, ” it’s ok. You can do this again.”
But when I would mention my secret dreams some would cock their heads just so, and raise an eyebrow asking, “are you sure?” You would encourage me to shake my head emphatically “yes” even as they added, “you just already seem so overwhelmed.”
So at night in the silence of your sleeping siblings I would question my abilities. Am I overwhelmed? Can I still do this, and still be a good mommy? You always answered so strongly in my heart and head. Yes.
I would watch my youngest get taller, and taller, and I would think about you. I didn’t want to use you to fill my baby well, but the desire still resided deep within me. “It’s ok,” you’d whisper. “The desire is strong for a reason.”
After your oldest sister was born I knew I wanted to do it again, to have another angel baby. It was such an easy decision, and I just did it. We had another!
Boy were we ill-prepared. If one baby was a blessing, then two was a dream, but there at the beginning it was more like a nightmare! A toddler and a newborn?! I questioned my sanity most days, for many days, and I doubted if you would be able to come after all. I’m just being honest.
I wasn’t sure if I was enough Momma for another baby, and I worried I wouldn’t be what you needed me to be. But then you would whisper to me again, “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
And so we waited. But it didn’t really feel like waiting, you know? It just felt like parenting, and it was busy work. Trust me. Some days it was so chaotic I would want to scream, but as I silently counted to ten in my head I would hear you whisper, “what about me?”
You would speak silently, but something about the urgency of your love, it was like a thunderclap in my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. When things were quiet and wonderful, I especially thought of you. But even in the insane day-to-day, still my thoughts always drifted to you.
So I want you to know, my soft-spoken one, that I have heard you. I have thought long and hard about your place in this family. Your Daddy and I both cannot stop dreaming of you, and we are certain of one very important thing.
We want you.
Will it be crazy? You betcha. More expensive? I’m sure. Will we have those silly parent moments where we want to run away? Most likely. But then there will be you.
God knew you before He has even formed you in my womb, and somehow so do I. I don’t know for sure what you will look like, or if you’ll be a son, or perhaps another daughter, but I do know this. I love you already. I love you, and you are wanted. Desperately.
I look at my favorite jeans that finally fit again, and I think about the solid eight hours of sleep I can usually get now. I think about morning sickness and marathon breastfeeding sessions. I think about putting three children in car seats, and then unloading them all at the grocery store. I wonder where we’ll put you, and if my pregnancy will go as smoothly at 38.
Then I rock the youngest born, stroking her hair, and I am at peace. I kiss your oldest sister goodnight, and as I gaze at her beautiful face I am certain. I fall into the comfort of your Father’s strong arms, and I know. I know you will come. We want you to; the rest will work itself out.
I lay my head down at night and I thank God for you, for the beautiful dream of you, and we pray eagerly to see you soon my dear.
Love,
Mommy