Waiting for her

I don’t know where you are. You may only be a thought. Maybe you’re developing inside of your birth mother – moving and growing and sprouting fingernails. Or maybe you’re in a crib somewhere. Right now I don’t know. But I do know that I love you. And I can’t wait to hold you.
I think about that day all the time. We just celebrated your brother’s 7th month of life and I found myself longing for you as I sat there in awe of the idea that I’ve now shared seven months with your amazing brother. I wonder where you are.
I don’t want you to have even a moment without arms around you. I’m praying for your birth mom and family. I’m praying for the doctors that deliver you. And I pray for whomever cares for you (nurses, orphanage care assistants, foster parents…I don’t even know). I pray that they’ll realize just how special you are. I pray that they will let you know as well. I pray that no matter what you face in the days before we meet you and for all your days after that God is whispering into your ear that He loves you. I pray that you’ll have the joy of hearing Him sing over you, even if your life begins with no one to do that for you. I pray that He’ll be so near to you and hold you so ridiculously tight. I pray that He’ll record somehow every moment of your development – your cribmates if you have any, your birth, your everything and let me watch it one day if I can’t be a part of it when it happens.
And I know He’ll take good care of you. I know He loves you even more than I could. And I know He will be giddy with excitement over each coo, every gassy “smile” and every little newborn startle you might have before and after we meet you. But so you know, I long to be there for it all because you are that important.
We’ll see what He does. Right now we’re just waiting. We talk about you all the time. Hannah even tells people about her sister. (And she’s not just trying to insult Jayden.) I pray for all the moments of your life and I think about you all the time. As we laugh and celebrate as a family, I think about how great it will be to add you to all of it. I realize we’re probably not ready for you yet – and hey – maybe you’re not even growing inside of your birth mother yet. But I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and whisper your name over you, Mia. By the time you read this, I’ll probably have told you a million times, but God has given you the name Mia so that you would know He calls you “mine.” And to think I get to have that privilege too…
I love you. I can’t wait to meet you.

Love,
Mommy