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Hey Jude!

April 7, 2009

You were born three years ago today.  A beautiful baby boy who waited until the day before his daddy flew off to “evangelize” Texas, to be born.  I had been hoping you would give me a solid three days minimum.  No such luck.  You had your own agenda.  You still do.

I’ll never forget the moment you were born, and the doctor placed you in my arms.  I cried of course, but for none of the reasons you might suppose.  I cried from plain old fear.  This struck me as strange since I had had three other children before you, and could not for the life of me, ever remember being afraid with them.  I held you in my arms and could only think of one thing, “Oh my God, I have to take him home!”  That’s when I started to panic.  This wasn’t supposed to happen to a “seasoned mother.”  I had been down this road multiple times, what was I so afraid of?

I guess to get the full picture, we have to go back to the moment I found out I was pregnant with you.  I was late starting my period (par usual), but was feeling kind of antsy about it.  I must have been showing some signs of stress, because your dad told me to, “just go out and get a pregnancy test so you’ll quit freaking out.”  I heeded his excellent advice.  I went to Long’s Drugs and bought a pregnancy test.  And not the generic one either.  I took it home, read the directions (even though I’ve used these things like, 50 times), and proceeded to “take care of business.”  When I finished, I set the test stick on the floor while I remained on the toilet.  That turned out to be providential, because when the test came back positive, I began to hyperventilate.  No joke.  I kept looking around for a paper bag.  All the while, I’m thinking to myself, “I’m 32 years old.  I can’t be pregnant now!”  And do you know what God said to me (after He laughed)?  He said, “All things work together for good to those who love Me and are called according to my purpose.”  Wow.  His purpose.  Not Michelle the “control-freak-OCD-perfectionist’s” way; because lets face it, her way clearly sucks.  Only His purpose will do.

In retrospect, I am grateful for the 40+ weeks of pregnancy that allowed me to get to know my son, even before he was born. I remember the sweetness of feeling him stir inside me for the very first time, and the wonder that filled my heart as I listened to his galloping heartbeat on that tiny device in the doctor’s office.  Each new milestone really helped drive home this one unimpeachable fact…  I was going to have a baby.

Fast-forward to the present day.  April 6th, 2009.  You are three years old; a ray of sunshine God sent down to brighten up our lives.  A gift.  Because the very best gifts are the ones you didn’t expect!  I want you to know, that every doubt, and every fear I ever had about being your mommy disappeared a long time ago.  It has been replaced with the sweetest joy I have ever known.  I call that joy, Jude.  So, Happy 3rd Birthday Punkin’ Head.  May the Lord our God bless you with many, many more!

I love you with all my heart,dscn08961


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