23 weeks. August is the size of a mango. 

There are plenty of things that I thought I’d have all figured out before I became a mother. Like how I’d have the best cookie recipe and I’d clean the entire house everyday because it would just involve me fluffing a few pillows and replacing some candy on the coffee table. I’d magically develop one of those lullaby singing voices and I would know every bible story by heart. I would be able to pray out loud without turning bright red and maybe I would no longer know how to roll my eyes….

Well, I am close enough to having you in my arms to say that I will not have these things figured out. And I am close enough to having you in my arms to say honestly that I no longer care. Sure, those things are nice and very admirable, but there are much more important things that I am rich in. Things that I know you’ll notice and in which you will benefit greatly.
Like in the mornings, when I kiss my husband & peak out of the window to sign “i love you” and without a thought, let out a tiny whimper because I miss him already. Or when he grabs my hand at dinner before I reach for my fork and starts to pray over us.  Or when how he asks me to marry him everyday, sometimes even getting on one knee because it makes us both fantastically happy. Or how I place my hand on his shoulder in the car as he drives. Or how he calls me beautiful or stunning or sometimes nothing but just stands there speechless takes a deep breath and smiles hopelessly.

Oh August, I hope you grow to forgive every break and bake cookie, every dirty dish left over night, every song that I butcher and every bible verse I can’t quite recall, all the shades of red my face can make and every eye roll that gets away from me. I hope you can forgive them and they don’t leave any lasting impressions on you because if you can, then you will have such a wonderful life in this family. Daddy and I, we’ll do our part in guaranteeing that you do. That you grow up experiencing pure love first hand. Because if that is what it takes to be a mother, I’m very well prepared. 

…and maybe don’t worry so much about the lullaby voice thing because just you wait until you hear your Daddy sing…you & I will be just fine.