You came quickly, my sweet son. It’s funny to say that because we waited so long for you, but your delivery into the world was smooth and simple. I remember telling your dad – in the midst of it – that I thought delivery was suppose to be harder. It should be harder. What was wrong that this was going so well? I wasn’t used to things going smoothly and that – more than anything (even the contractions) – made me uncomfortable. Your dad looked at me and said, “maybe it’s time for something to be easy.”
I exhaled. The tears came. And I thought of the long journey to you.
It wasn’t easy.
But as they laid you on my chest and as you started to burrow your way under my chin, I knew that you were worth everything. You were worth every tear, every heart ache, and every doubt along the way.
And oh my son – life with you has been so easy.
You fit into our hearts and lives so perfectly that even when things have been hard (everything from newborn sleepless nights to your two-year-old temper tantrums), things have still felt easy.
Because you’re here. And you’re real. (And honestly – you have been a pretty easy kid, too). 😉
I remember in your first few months – all your dad and I wanted to do was stare at you, and as we stared at you – I felt the pieces of my heart fall back into place. My heart had been broken for a while. I don’t think I even realized how much. But being your mom has made me strong again.
Sometimes I wonder who I would be if you never came. Would my heart still have healed? I don’t know the answer to that question, and luckily I don’t need to know. Because God always knew that you were coming. You were always part of the plan. And as we looked at all the events that led to you, you were the exact person at the exact time that God had planned for us. So I never have to wonder what if because there are no ifs.
There was always you.
So please know. As you grow up and face hard times in your life (because you will), please know that God – who designed you and your timing into the world so perfectly – will always love you, never abandon you, and will continue to guide your life in a way that may seem mysterious, but even if unseen in the moment, is always filled with purpose.
And we – your parents – will love you forever.

One thought on “A Letter to My Son

  1. I really like how you’re doing this. It feels so overwhelming to think about writing out our stories of infertility–yet you’ve found a way. Really well done, my friend. I don’t want to say I’m “enjoying” reading because…well, you know reliving some of these things isn’t necessarily enjoyable…but you know what I mean. I enjoy reading what you have to say. (And I enjoy marveling at how far the Lord has carried us from the days when we wrote “Endo sucks” with a stick in the sands of Bora Bora…and assuaged our pain with nightly rhum and a LOT of laughter.) Love you.

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