Happy Birthday Cuteface

"Is it bad that I'm not totally excited about this pregnancy? I'm happy and want to do this, I'm just not feeling that excitement like before."

This was what I said to my doctor 19 months ago at my first pre-natal appointment. He smiled in his kind, understanding way and said, of course, "With the first you don't know how scared you should be. By your third, you know."

From the moment the test came back positive right up until I delivered, I felt trepidation about bringing a third child into my life. I barely could manage the two that I had and I knew full well the intense work a newborn could be is. For nine months I felt I was gearing up for something I wasn't prepared for and at times it felt like dread. And then I felt guilty for dreading and feared it would get in the way of loving her.

Her. Another girl. Memories of the challenges and downright unpleasantness of Sarah's first year clouded my thoughts. Just looking at some of Sarah's baby clothes brought back bad memories of screaming nights and frustrating days. So those clothes they went right back into storage. Sarah was the most challenging baby the moms in my family had ever seen. Henry wasn't especially difficult so to me girl=hard. I prayed a lot during this pregnancy. Father, help me do this. Help me love her. Help me be happy.

And then she was born.

And I got this.

And held this.

And loved this.

And watched this.


Erica came into this world with sweetness and peace in her heart. Sure, I had my typical "I have no idea what I'm doing" and "I am losing my mind" moments but she was a strength to me, not a drain. We sit in her room, rocking and snuggling, letting the chaos of the day whirl without us.

Looking back, I should have never been afraid. She has taught me one important thing.

God is good. He gives us more than we deserve and better than we expect. 

Happy birthday Cuteface.