Dear Will,

You are four years old. (Well, four years and one month now...mommy's been a little busy and hasn't gotten around to writing your letter until now!) I can't even believe it's been four years since you were kicking away in my belly, four years since we first saw that adorable little nose of yours, four years since you completely changed our lives forever. But it has...and boy, what a wonderful four years it's been.

You've grown up so much in the last year. You left toddler-hood and moved full on into little-boy. There's a little part of me that's sad. Not because you're growing up, but just because it seems to pass by too quickly to soak it all in. But mostly, I'm excited. You are so fun to be around every day. You are full of questions (sometimes so many I think my head might pop!) and are so curious about everything around you. You want to know exactly how everything works and if I don't know, you're just sure your Daddy will! You have one of the gentlest, sweetest spirits. I adore that about you...you love to give hugs (and will sometimes hug us 50 times in a row just because you can't get enough of it). You love to pet the dogs gently and play with them roughly.

And sometimes when I'm just enjoying your sweetness, you get a spark of wild mischief in you, which I adore almost as much as the sweetness. You love to jump and tickle and run (and run and run). You love to fight (evil...most of the time) and don your super hero gear to save the world. And I might love that the very most...that you truly think you can save the world. You truly think that you can be Batman and that putting on your cape will make the bad guys shake in fear. I never want the world to take that power from you, because you can save the world. Maybe not quite in as dramatic of a fashion as Batman, but you, my sweet child of God, are going to do great things for His kingdom. I can feel it and it gives me goosebumps.

You love to talk about God. You ask lots of questions - hard questions that sometimes I don't want to answer for fear that I'll be feeding you too much too soon. But it's hard to resist your precious little voice. You want to know everything about Jesus; how he died, why he died, why the 'bad guys' were so mean to someone we love so much. I think that last question is the hardest to answer. I wish you never had to know hate like that. We talk about what Heaven is going to be like and those conversations and your wondrous, non-wavering faith in a God that is bigger than anything I can imagine take my breath away. I pray that God will show your Daddy and I how to raise you in a home so that that type of faith doesn't fade. I pray that when you're 20, you'll still be dreaming about Heaven and playing soccer with Jesus someday.

A few nights ago, you wanted me to come snuggle with you in bed after Daddy had read you your stories. I came in and you snuggled up tight next to me under the covers and we talked and prayed and were still together. I felt your little brother kicking away in my stomach and felt your hot breath on my chest and I could have stayed in that moment forever. I tried to soak up every single ounce of that moment; the blue stars illuminated on your ceiling, the smell of Burt's Bees Baby Wash in your hair, the softness of your skin, the smallness of your hands, the coziness of that moment. Someday when you're big and grown and my hands are the ones that seem small inside of yours, I'm going to remember this moment vividly. And I'm going to thank God for giving me such a precious gift.

Happy birthday my sweet, sweet boy. I never dreamed four years ago my heart could swell to love you this much. I thought I knew what love was then...oh boy, was I wrong. That love then couldn't even hold a candle to the love I feel for you now.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Jack,

I can't believe how fast this time with you inside my belly is flying by. Tomorrow we get to have our "big" ultrasound - the one where they look at every inch of you and make sure that everything is functioning perfectly. I can't wait to see your little face again and see how much you've grown since the last time we got to see you, a little over a month ago.

We are all getting anxious for your arrival, even though it's still several months away...(hear that mister? You better stay put until the end of July at the very earliest!!) Will is very excited to meet you and we talk about you daily. He loves to come "listen to Jack" when I pull out the doppler and we listen to your heartbeat. He hasn't been patient enough to really feel your kicks yet (though he insists that he has!) and he's really growing to love the idea of having a little brother...especially one who loves playing Batman. You are already so loved, sweet boy...I can't even imagine what it's going to be like when you're born. Our cups will surely runneth over. I am so excited to see you and Will grow up together as brothers. I'm sure you'll become the best of friends and partners in crime and I promise I'll try not to get (too) mad when you inevitably get yourselves into loads of mischief. I just can't wait to watch you develop that sibling bond. There will be hard times, I'm sure. But the depth of love between siblings goes beyond all else.

I am so excited to meet you, Jack. I wonder what your little face looks like now; do you have Daddy's hands and feet and ears like your brother? Do you have my chin and eyes? Whatever you look like and whoever you become, I know this to be true. God created you. He knit you together and knows intimately every little detail about you. He made you perfect. And I can't wait to get to enjoy the blessing of life with you on the outside. Until then, I'm going to savor every last one of these kicks you're throwing my way. I'm going to talk to you and sing to you and let you know just how very loved you are; not just by your Daddy and brother and me, but also by your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, and by your Savior.

I love you so much, Jack.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Baby,

(originally written November 28, 2012)

Dear Baby,

Today I went to the doctor and got more blood drawn. I was a ball of nerves all day hoping and praying that my beta would be good. That you are still growing and that I might have a prayer of meeting you in August. They didn't make me wait all day; the nurse called at lunchtime and said that our numbers look fantastic! My first beta was 70 and we just needed it to double today. Well, you little overachiever, more than doubled. My HCG was 175 today! I almost cried with relief. I know there are no certain things, but I'm thankful that you're still here, you're still growing.

We get to 'meet' you on December 19th. That's 3 weeks away and I absolutely cannot wait. I am so thrilled to see you on the ultrasound. I pray that you are healthy. That's all I care about now; that you keep growing and that you're healthy and perfect. I know that God is knitting you together in my womb. I pray this week as your brain, spinal cord, and heart form that God would wrap you in his arms and carefully and artfully weave you together, leaving his signature fingerprints inside of you.

Your daddy and I have already begun dreaming about what your name might be. I think we both like Jackson a lot if you're a boy, but we're not settled on that. We've known for years that if you're a girl, you'll be Charlotte. But I've started doubting that lately. I've really begun to like the name Eliana. You see, Eliana, means 'My God has answered me,' in Hebrew. And that He has. I have prayed for you for many months. I've shed tears and cried out to God in desperation, praying that he would please grant me with my baby. All that waiting seems worth it now that you're growing.

I'm so excited for the coming months and weeks. I feel like a little bit of my worry has been eased. Please keep growing, little one. Be strong and know that you are loved; not only by your family, but also by your Creator, your God.

I love you.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Baby,

originally written 11/25/12

I've known about you for three days now and my love for you continues to grow each day. I am so nervous that I'm going to have to give you to Heaven like your brothers and sisters, long before I'm ready, but I'm trying to trust in God's plan and rest in the fact that this very moment, you're growing inside of me and that I love you very, very much.

I have big hopes for our future together, sweet baby. Hopes that I'll get to feel you kicking away. Hopes that one hot day in August, I'll get to kiss your tiny nose and hold onto your fingers. Hopes that I'll get to nurse you and stare at your precious profile like I did with your big brother. Hopes that Will will get to hold you and bring me diapers to change you and kiss you and love you. He will be an amazing big brother...you are lucky to have him. I have hopes that I'll get to take you to Sea World with Will next year, all snuggled up and cozy on my chest. Simple hopes, but wondrous hopes.

I am praying for you, baby. Praying that God would knit you together in my womb perfectly and that His mighty hands would make you strong and healthy and a fighter. I'm praying that you will find salvation from an early age and that you will chase passionately after God. I pray that God will give me the gift of you, that you will get to take your first breaths on Earth and not in Heaven. I'm selfish, I know. But I want you so, so badly. I yearn for you; the thought of not getting to take you home makes me ache. So please, baby...GROW. Snuggle in deep, draw strength from me, and grow. Tomorrow I go for my first blood draw at the doctor's office and I'm nervous. But God is good and mighty and strong and he is merciful and loves you, loves me, loves Daddy, loves Will. I trust him to give me peace and to help you grow.

Sweet baby, my lucky baby, I love you. So very much. I can't wait to meet you in August.

Love,
Mommy