37

Today, according to the calendar, I am full term with this baby boy. I've been trying not to get too hung up on dates, but I woke up this morning (hello, 3 am) and felt a sense of victory. We've come so far. I am not lying when I say I didn't think we'd make it to here. 

When I look back at the last 37 weeks, I realize just how much fear I've been carrying on my back (well, in my head, actually). 1,000 fears, and 1,000 ways God has said "Trust me, Angela. I'm still not letting go." I know we aren't there yet. But we're so close.

I'm anxious to get this labor started so I can hold this miracle. I want to see him, smell him, hold him. My baby boy I've prayed for the last three years. But I'm waiting (I don't have a choice, ha!). I''m soaking up this tiny amount of time where my body gets to assist God in a miracle. Every roll, every ache, every hiccup, another reminder that God still is in the miracle business. I will wait. 

I've been praying that his birth will remind us of just how awesome God is. That he doesn't cause pain without causing something new to be born. If we hadn't had those other losses, Levi wouldn't be here. Not that that takes away the pain, but it reminds me that God's plans are not my plans, and he really does love me and he has big plans for my family. A year ago, two years ago, my days were marked with pain. Longing. Prayers for new dreams. I had given up to being momma to more than one. But God didn't say no, even though I thought that's what he was saying. God was simply saying "Wait, just wait."

I am so glad I waited. 

Levi, you have taught me so much.

My heart is so much bigger and you aren't even here yet.

I'm ready for you, son.