Introducing David

Son. My beautiful son. My loving, loudly happy, growly, surprisingly strong, gift of a son. You were, and are, an outworking of His love, His patience for me, His unrelenting care to change me to a better person. For so long I resisted your life, not wanting to give up more of my own. Until He said "But I made you to be a great mother, and you are missing what I have for you". So I gave in, and here you are. What a shame had I persisted! What a loss for me, for Maisie and Daddy, for every person you will ever meet.

Two short hours in the shower on a Monday morning in late August and everything changed, again. Such a sharp and immediate contrast to just a day before. Overnight, Maisie was oldertallersmartersadderandneedier, but stronger, too. And happy. She loves you, so much.

I found myself saying, "How could I have forgotten how to change a diaper? Am I doing this right?" amazed that four long, slow, beautiful and difficult years could somehow be catapulted forward at an incredible speed as if I had been daydreaming that whole time and suddenly snapped back to reality by your 8lb, 14oz., life-depending-on-me self.

And there you stayed, just shy of 9lbs. And then dropped, and dropped, and dropped some more. I pleaded, I cried, I resented, I resisted. I couldn't believe He would help me learn to let go of control, again and again and again, this time through you. Didn't He know breastfeeding was best for you? 8lbs, 2oz at 16 weeks. Accepting the reality of your tiny, emaciated body because of my insistence, I regretted. But I let go and also learned to not judge myself. I stopped judging other moms. And you started to grow.

And grow you did. So heavy, son! So happy! You wake up with a scream and a smile every morning, excited to see your family, your world. You laugh, you growl and grunt, kick and crawl and flip, Busy Boy. Chunky thighs and rounded cheeks of smooth and perfect new skin. Little toes that curl and stretch, feet that search and find. Warm, soft and remarkably strong little fingers grasping and clutching, exploring everything and anything in reach. Drooling, scooching, fussing...A joy.

Almost 8 months to the day and I can't imagine life without you. I can't find that place that separates and measures my love for you and my love for Maisie. Such a fun boy. We waited 13 days for your name, worried and fretted feeling like nothing was right and how could we let you be here for so long with only "Baby"? Every day He said "Just wait, you'll know. Just relax, let go, trust Me. I know who he is. Just listen." And then it came. Daddy said "David?" Oddly I burst in to tears. We looked at each other and said "That's it." Beloved, dear one. Two years of learning to trust that He loves me,  a tremendous shift in perspective that giving up more of my life to begin your own was not an act of obedience to have another, but a response of love to His love, a vision of you as a young toddler exuding love for me, for others, for life...David.

"What about a middle name?" I don't know, let's wait some more. "I think it's Andrew," Daddy said. I choked up, more tears. Strong Man. And strong you are, so strong. Painfully you punched me from inside as you explored. Knife-sharp pain, even as a fetus, that made me cry out, sit down. Now with body free from womb your strength only increases, you yank my hair, pinch my cheeks, bite my chin, twist so fast I hardly saw you move but you're facing the other way, traverse the house from one side to the other in minutes...Andrew.

Such a beautiful soul, a gift to us. I love watching you grow, son. I look forward to the satisfaction of remembering these years and those to come when I am fully gray and you have your own little lives to love.