Dear Child

Dear Child,

This is your mother. I'm writing just to let you know that I love you already, and have for a long time. I feel like you're very far away from me today, and in a way I'm thankful for the longer view, for the reprieve from the taut hope of imminence. But in a way I grieve the time and distance. So I'm writing this to span all that.

My child, my child, I long to count your little pink fingers and toes, to touch your nose, to feel your fist around my finger, and yes, even to hear you scream yourself red sometimes. I imagine seeing myself in your smile, your father in your eyes (I hope you get his - so warm and keen at once) and strains of your aunts, uncles and grandparents in your personality (they're awesome people, every one of them). I hope you arrive in time to know all 4 of my grandparents, your great-grandparents. Do hurry. Time gets only shorter this side of eternity. I want them to see your face.

Child, there is so much here to see and know and learn and take joy in. I know, I know, there will be times I try to sell you to your grandmother (and she will almost take you every time - but she will always remind me where you belong). There will be times you scream and slam the door and think you hate me. But all that, just like all this, will be worth it. There is such treasure to be found even in heartache. There are always streams in the desert. Not all tears are an evil. And love reaches far deeper and far further than we can imagine.

So child, here in the meantime, I love you and I go about my life. I love your father (he's amazing, and you'll adore him), I love your big half-sister and brother, I love our God. All will be most well.