Brave in Love

Letters to Everly.

It has been only this week that I’ve felt 100 percent ready for your arrival. Sometimes I sit in quiet on the sofa in your nursery and try to think of things we still need to prepare for you - and the answer has been… nothing. We have warm blankets. We have tiny clothes. We have safe places for you to sleep in every room.

The house is clean, our bags our packed, and with nothing else left to do,  we are left alone to learn how to deal with an insuppressible urge just to have you in our arms. I’ve never experienced this feeling in my life - knowing that the best, most beautiful change to ever happen is so close without any clear definition of when exactly it will happen.

Every morning we wake up hopeful that today is the day we meet you. Every time I close my eyes I try to imagine your face. Your father and I have been promising you all sorts of bribes through my belly. (Don’t hold us to that pony thing, ok?) We make up silly activities to induce labor like speed vacuuming or marching in place to a Fleetwood Mac album.

Brent says that every day we wake up without you here is like falling asleep every night expecting it to snow and then waking up every morning and realizing it didn’t happen and you have to go to school.

You are our snow. our blizzard. and we can’t stop searching the sky for signs that you’ve arrived.

Love,

your mom