Skip to main content

Ten Weeks

Ethan is ten weeks old today. Ten weeks. It seems like a lifetime ago that he came into our lives, and just yesterday at the same time. It’s still so crazy, thinking back on our time in Florida and all we went through these past few months since learning we were chosen to parent him.  He’s growing and changing so much – it’s incredible. But tens weeks has me a bit emotional.
I feel twelve weeks, and my return to work, steadily creeping up on us. And then I find it a bit hard to swallow the lump in my throat.
I have dreamed of being a mother for as long as I can remember. I have wondered for years what it would feel like to hold a baby of my own in my arms.
To snuggle a soft head against my cheek. 
To see a big toothless smile and coo just for me.
To stumble around at night warming bottles and changing diapers.
To sing quiet songs and whisper prayers of thanksgiving while rocking my sleeping baby.
I daydreamed and fantasized and wondered what it would be like…but none of that could have adequately prepared me for how my heart has been captured by this baby boy.
My Ethan.
Nothing could have prepared me for how I would feel being his mother. It is simply amazing. God-given. Wonderful. And oh-so bittersweet.
Tonight Ethan was fussy. He was gassy and irritable after another exhausting morning having blood drawn at the doctor’s office. I was exasperated trying to comfort him. But as frustration gave way to calmness and he finally gave in to sleep in my arms, I realized something. No one can bring him comfort the way that I can. No one knows him quite the way I do.
I am his mommy.
And he knows it.
Incredible.
I know all you mothers out there already know this – but my waiting heart just couldn’t conceive of it until now. Nothing has ever moved me like this precious gift – this answered prayer – this adorable, lovable, sweet baby Ethan. And being his mommy is just the best. I am so beyond thankful that I get to do it.
The next few weeks are bound to fly by and soon my days will be spent at the computer, and not hanging out with Ethan and Matt. My boys. My family. It will be a tough transition. One I can’t really fathom either. In the meantime, I’m doing my best to soak as much of it up as possible. My floors may get a little hairier, my fridge may be a little bit bare, my hair may be pulled up in a messy bun.
But…
My arms will be busy holding my son. And it will all be worth it.






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Carrie Anne - The Beginning of the Story

So, I’ve been trying to sort out how to start this story. It’s been difficult to articulate. Difficult to pick which details to share, and which to hold close. But it’s a story too good, too beautiful, not to share – so here goes! When Matt and I first became parents, we thought our family was complete. We envisioned raising Ethan surrounded by loving friends and family – just the two of us. Given all that we had gone through to finally become parents, we felt content with just the one child. The most adorable boy in the whole wide world. Our Ethan was the apple of our eyes – the most amazing gift. We marveled at all of his accomplishments, soaked up all his love and personality, and celebrated the joy of parenthood at every exhausting, wonderful turn. Along the way, we’ve built a strong and loving relationship with Ethan’s birthmother. We visit yearly, and stay in close contact with pictures, emails, and texts. I have attempted to describe my feelings for her many times over the co…

Carrie - The Wait and the Big Arrival!

We arrived in Florida midday Saturday and made our way to the hospital where we met up with Ethan’s birthmother and her mother. We spent a long afternoon in the waiting room while the doctors and nurses put L through a myriad of tests. Finally, they verified the need to induce labor and proceeded to admit her to the hospital with plans to start the induction process Sunday. Exhausted, we left to check in at the hotel and ate what we thought may be our last supper before the baby came…but…. Sunday we arrived at the hospital mid-morning to see how things were progressing. The nurses gave L a medication to help start the dilation process around 12:30 PM…and told us it would likely take 12 hours for things to progress. We stepped out to enjoy the Florida sunshine for lunch for a bit, then settled in for the long haul at the hospital. We spent all afternoon, evening, and night together – holding watch over L as she slept. As we sat there, listening to the baby’s heart beating on the monit…

I may as well tell you...

I had a miscarriage. I’ve debated for weeks whether or not to acknowledge it publicly. It’s such a personal thing…and this is such a public medium. But a few months have gone by and I’m no closer to feeling ok about it and truly nothing else on my mind really compares, so here I am, letting the world in on my secret. Over the past few weeks I’ve found very little comfort in the fact that only a small handful of people know about the miscarriage. It became nearly unbearable this week, during all our wonderful family Christmas celebrations. Being surrounded by so many people who love me and support me and have no idea how my heart has been broken – it’s a lonely place to be. Not that I would want them all to bombard me with pity or questions or sad looks in their eyes – I realize I can’t have it both ways. But a little acknowledgement goes a long way and I simply can’t ignore or deny the fact that something major happened in my life and impacted me, impacts me still.
It was a warm, sunn…