Call it pregnancy hormones, excitement, I don’t know, but over the past couple days my heart keeps threatening to burst wide open with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Overwhelmed with excitement for what is ahead, tired at the thought of sleepless nights, anxious and all love-achy to hold my boys, and even sad to say goodbye to our precious trio of a family. Right now I am writing from bed, unable to sleep, with Rebekah nestled down between us softly snoring. (Not something we allow her to do often, but she protested sleeping on her own from 2-5 AM. She wore us down. Plus, who can resist such sweet snuggles? I can’t, especially knowing all the changes ahead!)
Rebekah, we have prayed hard and tired our best to make this transition smooth and positive. You are full of excitement and seem to grasp (as much as any of us can) what is happening. Snuggled in your rocker with my cheek pressed into your hair, we’ve read many books together. Over the past nine months, we prayed many bedtime prayers of safety, love, and gratefulness together. And we know that despite our best efforts, there will still be bumps.
You strike us as a very smart two-year-old, but we know (because it has already started) there will be tantrums, miscommunication, hard nights, and plenty of times you will need to just be held. The past few days, as if you sense the coming changes, you want so often to just be held. Safe, warm, close, and assured. And I think that is what we all want. As we grow older, we learn to look to God to provide this refuge. But for now, while you are little (and forever really or as long as you let us) we will hold you close and safe.
Mitch, you have been my rock. Steady through turbulent times. Loving when I don’t deserve it. Hard working even when it feels like spinning your wheels. Patient with my endless lists, visions, and ideas. I think you are the unsung hero of this pregnancy–and not just for late night ice cream runs. But because you held us together and never quit hustling. Hustling toward your goals and dreams, hustling to be the best husband and dad you could be, and hustling to love and serve God through the tough times. Oh, and with my aversion to cooking during much of this pregnancy, we would have starved without you. Or lived off Taco Bell.
Finally, to our boys, whose names will be revealed quite soon–we love you. The time between holding you in my womb and in my arms is drawing to a close. While a bit nervous about all the details, we are giddy with excitement and joy at the thought of meeting you.
After far too many ultrasounds (protocol for twins), we finally got a great shot of one of your faces. And like the glimpse we had of Rebekah a couple days before she was born, I can’t stop dreaming about it. Your perfect nose, your full cheeks, your sweet lips. I dare say we are ready–because I don’t believe we can be. But our hearts and arms ache to hold you. And of course, your big sister, Rebekah, is ready to meet her brothers. She gives you kisses already, listens to your heartbeats at the doctor, watches the strange-looking ultrasounds, and thanks God for you already.
Dear family, simply put, I love you.