Reminiscing

The other night after I put sheets on Abigail's bed I sat in the rocking chair and closed my eyes. There were a few tears, but mostly just remembering. I remembered how it felt to sit in that room before Abigail. I remember reading, and re-reading cards and letters people had given us to encourage our hearts as we waited, laying on the floor and sobbing listening to the same song over and over again, praying that God would bring our baby girl to us. I remember Jason coming in after I had cried for a while holding me, and reminding me that God would bring her in His timing.

I remember the three months between her birth mother choosing us and her being born. I folded, reorganized, put things away, moved them, listened to baby music, and just sat and imagined what it would be like. Nothing I imagined came close to how wonderful it is.

I remember sleepless nights with a little girl nursing all warm against my skin. I remember rocking a little one when she had a restless night. I remember a few week time period where she had trouble napping and we would both cry as I rocked her and nothing would soothe her. I remember tip toeing in to see that sleeping baby with her butt up in the air and her right thumb in her mouth...snuggled in and looking innocent and perfect.

I remember sleepless nights after the diagnoses wondering if she was in pain, and what the future would hold. I remember nights of breathing treatments every few hours because she was having asthma attacks.

And now, well now she climbs up in the chair to rock by herself. She gets down and walks over and lays down on her bed. She is a "gigirl" who didn't stay a baby as long as I thought she might. And although I love our toddler, sometimes I miss that sweet little round baby that would snuggle in and suck her thumb while I rocked her.

And down the road I have some pictures of what that room will hold. I can see a dancing little girl twirling about her room, more tea parties, playing house, slumber parties with little girls giggling all night and not getting sleep, crying over things that are hard in junior high and high school. Late nights sitting up and talking, just her and I, about life, Jesus, being a girl, and so many other things.

That room is such a special and wonderful place. Stepping into it causes a flood of memories of our lives over the past five years. And really, it has all gone by too quickly. I love the age she is and try to drink in every moment with her. The way she covers her mouth and does a fake giggle. How she flails her arms while she is babbling nonsense and then waits for you to respond. The moments when she kisses and hugs me just because she loves me. The way her face lights up when papa gets home from work. The little words she says that nobody else understand, and that will some day come out correctly. There are so many things about being a parent that are so very wonderful. And yes it is hard. But really I can't think of anything that is beautiful and wonderful that isn't hard. It feels a bit like someone tugging on my soul a little at a time. Sometimes I am so full of love and pride I feel like I could explode. And sometimes I am frustrated and wish that she could understand how much pain she could forgo if she would only obey. And then there are times when I am just scared for her and what her future holds. Although her diagnoses plays into this, I'm pretty certain I felt this way before we knew anything. But I wouldn't trade a moment of our lives away. I don't care if she is special needs, if she doesn't look like us, or if she isn't perfect. Her little giggles make the world a better place. And our lives have been forever changed by a round faced, curly headed, beauty!

Loving it,