Thursday, February 9, 2012

little one

little one,

I can feel you moving now. Not a lot, but a little. You squirm and kick a lot, but it feels like you’re moving pudding around my insides. I like to picture you bee bopping around in there. I love when you jab me with your little foot. Most moms tell me that this will get old when you keep me awake at 36 weeks throughout the night, but for now, I love it. It reminds me that you’re in there and growing like you should be growing.

You can hear my voice now. It makes me more aware of what I’m saying and how I’m saying it. I want you to be comforted by my voice. I wish I could see your face—how you respond to the things I say to you.

My prayer, since the beginning, has been that you are comforted by the Spirit—that you recognize God and His love for you even though you’re tiny. I know that your little soul can sense these things. You remind me that I should pray aloud more—I want you to recognize my voice when I talk to Jesus. I want you to recognize the sound of worship songs, especially when your dad sings them at church on Sundays.

I haven’t seen you in an ultrasound yet. You’re like a little mystery to me. I assume that you have big eyes like me and that you’re already long and skinny like your dad. But I wonder what your nose will look like. I wonder if your skin will be pink like mine or tan like your dad’s. I wonder if you have two arms and two legs. I wonder if you have all of your fingers and toes. I wonder sometimes if you have any disabilities or deformities, but I want you to know that I don’t care if you do. I know you’re forming and growing just the way you’re meant to be. You could come out and be green, and I would think you were the coolest green baby ever. I would tote you around on my hip and be proud, because God gave you to me.

I cry when I think a lot about you. I hope that you feel safe in there. I cry when I think about you being afraid. You’ve made a mother out of me, little one.

They say that being a mother is to have your heart permanently walking (or crawling) around outside of your body.

That will certainly be true.


your mama


  1. Oh Brett! This was so moving and beautiful. I couldn't help but cry massive tears as I read your words about this precious child inside of you. I pray that you will continue to love every moment of this time with him, or her, inside, and that any negative thoughts from others won't become realities in your pregnancy. Love you girl!

  2. You are so inspiring and such an amazing writer. I'm so happy for you and your little family. You really should consider somehow making this blog a book. I lot of people love reading it, including me! So good luck with everything and thank you for sharing your inspiring words

  3. That was so beautiful. You definitely need to save this for your child to read someday, when they can really understand what you mean.

  4. Loved reading this post! So sweet and true.

  5. i oh so love this post :) i just had to read it again!

  6. i oh so love this post! i just had to read it again. so sweet, brett :)

  7. Gosh, so beautiful. And congratulations! Thanks for sharing.

  8. So precious. I hope that you will always enjoy feeling that little babe move inside you. Even when you're 39.5 weeks pregnant and your belly is falling off of you, I hope that the sweet (strong) kicks and movements will be a joy and reminder of the miracle!
    There's nothing in the world like holding your baby! Get ready to cry more :)

  9. Brett, this is so beautiful. It made me cry. we haven't talked in years, but I wanted to wish you and the family the best. If only every mother showed her child this kind of love--I am sure you will be an amazing mama for your little one.