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Showing posts from March, 2012
24 weeks. August is the size of a grapefruit. Maybe I cry more in one week than you will for your entire infanthood. Maybe I say through laughs & tears that I’m too young for my body to make creaking noises. Maybe I moan and groan and pout more than I’d like to admit.  Maybe I have a love/hate relationship with my new body. Maybe I don’t want to ever not be pregnant again while simultaneously wishing I looked like I did in the Bahamas for the rest of my life. Maybe I smiled too much when the person behind me at Kroger saw the belly & pulled out my basket for me. Maybe I sent Jared a picture of me eating straight from the gallon tub of neapolitan to check up on the status of our “for better or worse” vow. Maybe he replied in the sweetest way possible and maybe I smiled myself to tears. Maybe I look at myself in the mirror even more than I did when I was 16. Maybe I wear jeggings as pants. & Maybe this post is more about me than it is about you, Little A. Maybe I’m a b
                                      Little Bits of  Heaven on Earth Sometimes this is how I see you. Fidgety and numbering the days…just waiting.  Waiting to see what we look like. Waiting for hands to hold. Waiting to be kissed. Okay, I know there’s much more going on in there than just a twiddling of thumbs. Important things like the gaining of chubbiness, the perpetual (and adorable) cases of hiccups and the developing of devilishly handsome looks.  So maybe it is just us…fidgety, numbering the days, and just waiting. Waiting to see what you look like. Waiting for little hands to hold. Waiting to be kissed. Trying terribly hard to be patient. But Impatience, well Impatience has been my downfall, lately.  It has caused me to be gloomy and grumpy and glum . And when I pray for patience, God often sends in my mind this vision to remind me of the incredible gift at the end of patience. A vision of God and me, hugging so tightly, smiling happy as never before and this groundbreak
Days when I get the silly cries, the incessant worries, the overwhelming blues…There he is, reminding me that life is awesome!  Oh, he can’t wait to meet you. & I can’t wait til you meet him.
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 lov
22 weeks! August is the size of a pomegranate. Yesterday, Daddy & I went out for a Sunday date. Church, lunch, & downtown shopping. You came along, like you do, and people noticed! Three to be exact! Three! :) I was told congratulations , which I still feel sorta funny accepting, but it does put this sorta dopey smile on my face that I try but can’t control. And that suits me just fine.  Speaking of that dopey smile, here’s a little story where that smile came for a visit and every time I think of this moment, that smile likes to linger. This weekend, Daddy & I did some spring cleaning. Well, mostly your Daddy cleaned while I kept him company. You’ll learn he’s really good like that. Well, I left him so I could put away clothes and when I returned, there he was, sitting on the floor, folding your little clothes, straightening your books, & lining up your toys. There he was, in all his Daddy glory. So serious and so happy. Looking so very much like he’s got thi
20-21 weeks. August is the size of banana/cantaloupe. YOU ARE A BOY! Little Mister August Abram Buchanan. Be still my heart. I got a chance to break out my blue nail polish from our wedding (yay!) and I’ve been online browsing baby boy clothes, accessories, & nursery decor. What fun! I gave in and bought you a few outfits. Daddy and I have taken turns holding and cooing at them as if they were you. And we dream of what it will be like to dress you everyday and how exciting it is that we get to do that! I look very pregnant now. (notice the picture: the buttons on my shirt are determined to hang on, but just. one. more. kick. and they’d be goners.) I also feel very pregnant now. (leaving dropped items on the floor and exploring my new surprising range of emotions.)  But most importantly, I’m falling in love with being pregnant now. (your kicks & hiccups have completely captivated me.) I’m yours & certainly you’re mine.  
When we were dating, I remember noticing how often I would glance at your Daddy and just sigh. He had it! He had that husband look. The look that made me swoon & realize he was made for me & made me incredibly eager to say yes when he asked me to be his wife. The look that is mine and always, always, always will be. Now, August, I want to let you know- he’s at it again. That man. & This time he’s got that Daddy look. And he wears it oh so very well. The look that will, no doubt, calm your midnight crying, & will heal any bobo & the look that you will never not know. Because that look is yours and always, always, always will be.
Halfway through making this photo, I asked myself..”Hmm..could this be my first true craving?” and there you were to answer my question with a somersault in my tummy. Silly boy.