Little One, I am realizing more and more the older that I get that every little thing is a miracle. Life is all in how you look at it, Lo. Some people feel like a miracle must mean water into wine, but I believe that it’s a miracle to wake up every morning. It’s a miracle that we”re in this moment, right now. Every single breath that fills our lungs full with air is a small miracle. Each and every one.
Meeting your Dad was a miracle. The beautiful life we’ve been given together is a miracle. And most of all, you will be a miracle.
As June looms closer and closer, I feel myself slipping. I’m not being as positive as I need to be, because the wound of having a possible match has not completely healed. I know it will, but it takes time, and I know in my heart and soul you’re still out there waiting for us. That just wasn’t our baby, it wasn’t our time, it wasn’t our lead…. it wasn’t you. But the closer it gets to the date where we thought you’d be here, it’s getting a bit harder. I’m trying to remain positive despite this. But sometimes, you just have to let it all out. It’s almost like the summer weather in Maryland: it gets muggy until the air is heavy and hot, until finally the storm comes. As the storm roars past, the air calms and becomes cool again. I need to let my storm pass before I can see the end of this rainbow.
Even so, we are remaining positive. We’re reading success stories, thinking of new angles, and looking at nursery decor. I think we’re going to start getting the nursery together in the next few weeks. Tonight we spent time pouring over gender netural greens and yellows, deciding which color would work best for the walls. We were afraid of this at first, but we have faith. Having that faith means that we’re no longer afraid to make steps towards the finish line. Having faith is a miracle.
This past weekend was memorial day, and your Dad and I went camping with family. On the road trip to PA, we had a long talk about our journey. We made a pact. This journey is going to get difficult, and there are going to be times when one or both of us are going to feel defeated and want to give up the fight. But we promised each other that no matter what, we’re going to be each others rocks. We’re going to pick each other up when one of us is feeling down, and encourage each other until we get to our destination. We’re there for each other through everything, as a marriage should be. That in and of itself is a miracle.
Your Dad and I went canoeing in the Brandywine River, and it exemplified teamwork. I would steer as he paddled, he would lean as I would lean. We’re one amazing team, Lo. Once you come along, we’ll be steering this canoe for you- but trust me, we’ll all always be in the same boat together. Always working together and being there for one another, the way a family is meant to be is one giant miracle.
On Sunday, your Grandma and I went and painted ceramics. We picked out the above picture and painted them for you. When I painted the words Little One on the bears hat, your Grandma began to cry. Having family that is support and loving is definitely a miracle.
We have so much to be thankful for in our lives, Lo. Even before you get here, this life we have is so miraculous. You’re arrival is only going to make it more so. We will remain positive that our big miracle is on the way, and that all of these breaths and days we wake up are tiny miracles that all play into the larger miracle- you being in our lives.
We only get this one life Lo. We have to take in every single moment as a miracle. Though the next few weeks are going to be hard for us, we know you’re still out there. We know that one day, hopefully soon, our big miracle will come through.
Knowing Everything is a Miracle,