I Remember

I was in the tenth grade when September 11th happened. I still remember that day so vividly. A week later, as the dust began to settle, one of my teachers made us write a letter to our future children, explaining what had happened and how the world had drastically changed in our short lifetimes. This is the letter that I wrote:

September 19, 2001

My Dear Child,

Today is Wednesday, September 19, 2001. It has now been a week since the world stood still in horror and shock on Tuesday, September 11, 2001, as all of America and the world watched two buildings that were once the tallest in the world crash to the ground. Four airplanes were hijacked and crashed into the World Trade Center Towers and the Pentagon. I was sitting in Biology class when it happened but I didn't know anything until almost an hour later. Someone turned on the news and I sat there dumbfounded and confused. I was shocked when I learned the facts.

I'm writing this letter to you today in hopes that I can help you understand this tragic time that I am forced to live in. My generation never knew the threat of a war, or a draft, or even a major terrorist attack. But, now, we do. We are all now faced with those things everyday.

As I write this letter to you, I am still not sure what tomorrow will bring. I am not sure if we will go to war tomorrow, if another terrorist attack will occur, or if things will just stay the same. But, I do know that something will happen soon. Our respected and strong President George W. Bush said, "Freedom was attacked by a faceless coward... and freedom will be defended." I have a lot of faith in our great President and I know that he will protect his country, our free and great nation, to the best of his abilities. "Our nation is peaceful, but fierce when stirred to anger," said the President.

Right now, this nation of ours is feeling something it hasn't in a long, long time. Franklin Roosevelt called it "the warm courage of national unity." For once, people of every race, religion, and culture have come together. Let me tell you, it's a wonderful feeling. Every where you go you see American flags waving proudly and defiantly. It truly is an amazing sight.

Through all of this, we shall overcome and live freely again. But, my dearest child, there is one thing I want you to remember- neither death nor life nor angles nor principalities nor powers nor things to come nor height nor depth can separate us from God's love (Romans 8:28).

Love,

Your Mother

It's strange looking back on this now. It was so long ago. And now I actually have a child. A life I wish to protect above my own. May we always remember those who lost their lives that day. May we remember the heroes and the families that were left behind.

WHO AM I ?!?!?!

It's official... after seven weeks of motherhood, I have no idea who I am anymore. I have lots of ideas of who I should be and who I want to be. But, as far as who I actually am? No clue.

My mind has compiled a list of possibilities to choose from: wife, mommy, Andrew's food supply, Daddy's best friend, sister, daughter, aunt, friend (probably not a very good one right now), housekeeper, trashman, diaper changer and poopy wiper, launderer, personal chef, maid, baker, organizer, shirt ironer, lunch maker, playmate, snugglemate, paci finder, grocery shopper, exerciser, eater, baby calmer, cry soother, book reader, bath giver, cow.... so on and so forth.

Some of those titles, I'm not exactly excited about. But hey, poop won't wipe itself. Others, like snugglemate, I'm totally into. However, all those titles on the list have become my life in the past seven weeks. I now remember, quite fondly, of being home alone at 38 weeks pregnant, sleeping until 10am everyday, eating everything, cleaning house all day, taking naps, and knocking out my to do list daily. It was awesome. I was PRODUCTIVE! However, productivity looks different on the other side of the fence now. Being productive means something completely different these days. It isn't about my to do list anymore. Sure, I still make a mental list everyday of the things that need to get accomplished, but usually only one or two items gets crossed off on any given day. Now, productivity isn't about the quantity of tasks completed- it's about quality. That means quality time with my son, quality naps for him, quality meals for him, quality learning time, bonding time, snuggle time. With all of those things to accomplish, the dishes don't get done as fast and the laundry piles up a bit more than usual.

And, it's time for me to learn that that is ok. I am a stay at home mom. Not a maid. Not a personal chef. I didn't quit my job to take care of household duties. I quit my job to raise our son. Yes, of course, the household things are still part of my duties, but they aren't my first priority, Andrew is. Why is this so hard for me to learn? I kinda thought I was going to be super -mom. I would have a genius baby and a perfectly polished house, a place where nothing was ever dirty or out of place. Now I'm lucky if I can wash my hair or change clothes when I get puked on. And to be honest, I really wouldn't trade it for the world. I love it. I love my job. I just can't seem to remember the job description very well. Stay at home mom. What does that entail? A MOM who STAYS at HOME. How hard is that? Mom, not maid, not chef. Mom. Got it. Stay at home. Home, my home, not yours, not the mall, not the grocery store. Stay at home and be a mom. This, my friends, is not for the faint of heart.

Being a stay at home mom is hard . The hardest thing I've ever done. Harder than keeping a 3.8 GPA in college. And it's the most rewarding thing I've ever done. More rewarding than graduating magna cum laude. It's hard, frustrating, dirty, isolating, amazing, joyfully sweet, precious, wonderful. It's been a lot for me to adjust to. Life was always wake up, get ready, go to school or work, come home, sleep, repeat. Now the days are so different. And each day looks different, and yet eerily alike.

I'm struggling with my job title. I want to be all those things on the aforementioned list. Most are needs, some are wants. I want to raise my son and have a clean house. But, as I'm learning, it's all about priorities. He is my priority, the dishes can wait. It may drive me crazy to have a dirty house, but teaching my son, snuggling and bonding with him are just way more important. So, it's time I let myself off the hook. If we have a bad day, that's ok. If I don't get any housework done, it's ok. The world won't end. And my husband won't even care in the least bit. But what if he comes home and the house is spotless, a perfect dinner is waiting on him, but our son's needs haven't been met all day and he's sitting in a corner hungry, dirty, wet, and tired? Yeah...

Andrew is why I am at home, he's the reason I'm not sitting behind a desk answering a phone right now. I'm not home for the dishes and the laundry. I'm here for Andrew. So, here is my job title- one I can stick to: Stay at home wife and mom. All the other titles will work themselves out eventually and who knows, maybe one day I will become supermom who can do it all. But for today, I'll settle for some snuggles... and a shower. :)

Nine months ago...

Nine months ago last night, Red Head and I found out that we were pregnant. November 18, 2009 changed our lives forever. And as terrified as I was at the time, I'm so beyond grateful today. We love our precious baby boy and I honestly cannot imagine life without him. And even though it has only been a month, I can hardly even remember life before him! What did we do with all of our time back then? We must have been so bored! :)

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow. Our Andrew is such a blessing to us and we thank the Lord for his little life daily. What a mighty God we serve!

Happy four weeks, sweetpea! Mommy and Daddy love you, little monkey.

When Two Became Three

"The preparations of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the LORD." Proverbs 16:1

I had everything planned out, down to the smallest and most minute details. I knew exactly how I wanted things to go, exactly how I wanted my experience to unfold...

...It wasn't at all like I had planned. In fact, just about every single one of my "plans" or "requests" never came to fruition. No, it wasn't at all like I had planned- it was much better. And I wouldn't change one second of it for the whole world. Let me start at the beginning...

I woke up the morning of July 21, 2010 with contractions around 5:00am. Unfortunately, I had spent many a morning (especially the wee AM hours) waking up to contractions and I'd had gotten my hopes up one too many times to get too excited about these contractions. I had been having a mixture of Braxton Hicks and real contractions, but they never lasted, never got more painful, never got closer together (aka- they were never REAL labor contractions!). But on that morning, I woke up in pain and thus began the contraction dance of getting up to go to the bathroom, pacing the room, bending, squatting, stretching- you name it, I did it. In all my commotion, I woke up my husband who proceeded to try to snuggle the contractions out of me. As I settled back down, the contractions just picked back up. So, sweet Red Head advised me to take a warm shower to relax my muscles. We had our 39 week OBGYN appointment that morning so I needed to get ready anyway.

While in the shower, I remember thinking that we would never make it to our 9:40 appointment; surely I would be in active labor by then and we would be on our way to the hospital. Right? No, wrong again. As the hour hand on the clock moved from 5 to 9, my contractions started to space out and get less and less intense. My hopes were dashed again! Since I was still pretty uncomfortable from the contractions, my precious husband offered to drive me to the doctors appointment (normally we took two cars so he could go straight to work afterwards). As I signed in, the same sweet receptionist that I saw every week asked, "So are we having a baby today?" "Whew, I hope so!" was my reply. There were no other words to describe the depths of my longing and supreme impatience for our baby to make its arrival. I had checked out of the pregnancy hotel and was ready to move into Mommyville. After that little conversation, it was the same old, same old. Sign in, wait in the lobby, pee in a cup, step on the scales, blood pressure check, and into a room. The nurse asked me how I was feeling and I mentioned the contractions to her but she seemed pretty unphased. Maybe that was because I'd been having contractions for the past four months and she thought I was crying wolf again.

When the doctor walked in briskly with a nurse, I thought maybe my comment had scored me the golden ticket. But once he said, "I'm going to check you for progress really quick because they are waiting for me outside to sing happy birthday to someone so I will run out there and them come back so we can talk" I knew there was NOTHING special about the day. I wasn't in labor. I was just a big old pregnant lady. Thirty-nine weeks and five days. Yes, I was sure that I would be pregnant forever.

Once our doctor (who we love!) checked me, he informed me that no progress had been made in the last week. Still two centimeters and 50-75% effaced. Ouch. My hopes hadn't just been dashed, they had been drop kicked, punched, exploded, and hung out to dry. Once the doctor's singing gig was over, he came back in to talk to us about our options for inducing. I shuddered when I heard the word. Induce. He was going to have to make my baby come out. I wasn't pleased with the news, but I also wanted to do what was best for our baby, so we scheduled an ultrasound and a non-stress test for the following Monday so we could make our induction plans with all the information we would need.

After the appointment, with my head hung down low and still having contractions, my husband informed me that he was taking the day off to stay with me since I wasn't feeling well. Apparently he knew something that I didn't! We decided that walking would be the best thing for me to get things progressing so we headed to Walmart and Costco so we could stay in the air conditioning. (Side note- I had spent the past week and a half walking outside everyday in the excruciating Memphis heat- our heat indexes got up to 130 degrees several times. That was the depths of my despair- walking for miles and miles in the heat advisory. No other human was stupid enough to be outside, no one but crazy me!)

After walking and walking and contracting and contracting, I was starving. Red Head insisted that we eat spicy foods, since everyone says hot food induces labor. Again, he must have known something that I didn't! We went to Las Delicias and I ate as much spicy green salsa as I could handle. We had such a fun time eating and talking that I forgot my worries and let loose from nine months of pregnant frustration. At last, I was happy. I was with my husband, having fun, and the baby would come when it was good and ready.

I think spicy food was the cherry on top to make Baby Woods good and ready. :)

By the time we got home from our lunch date, my contractions had revved up to an uncomfortable degree. I went to bed to relax and they only got worse. Weird, huh? They always slowed down when I relaxed. My husband had downloaded a "Contraction Timer" app on his iPhone so we started timing contractions around 1:00pm, a good eight hours after they had begun. The next few hours are all a blur for me. I remember lying in bed, feeling a contraction coming on, beating my computer with the iPhone to call for Red Head's help, timing the contractions and being exhausted in between. That pattern went on for the next several hours, with Red Head running in and out of the room (he was working from home on a few things that he needed to tie up at work). A few hours into it, I began to feel a huge pressure on my lower back, the most excruciating pain I had ever felt- MUCH worse than the contractions. That's right, you guessed it-back labor. I am convinced that back labor is the ultimate curse that God laid upon womankind when Adam and Eve sinned. I was able to get through the contractions with everything we had learned from our Bradley book, but the back labor was all together a different kind of beast. Sweet hubby rubbed my back, applied counter pressure, everything he could to help. At times I was yelling for him to rub harder, then yelling for him to not touch me at all. Poor guy. But he held in there, stayed by my side, and saw me through every contraction.

At 6:00pm, Red Head and I watched a few Cosby episodes in bed while he ate dinner and I snacked on grapes. After that, all I remember is rocking in the glider in the nursery, Red Head playing the guitar for me, being on all fours in the nursery floor screaming in pain, and lots and lots more pain. The back labor continued, despite all my efforts to move the baby down and out of my back. My contractions were a pretty steady 7 minutes apart for a good number of hours. Then five minutes apart, when the normal woman would go to the hospital. I, however, was going to have a natural childbirth and thus I would be waiting at home until the contractions were two minutes apart. Well, after 7, then 5 minutes apart, they went straight to two minutes. And then I started freaking out.

As the contractions sped up and got closer together, I was terrified that we wouldn't make it to the hospital in time. Red Head started to get dressed and pack up the car, leaving me alone for a few minutes to handle the contractions on my own. That was the worst thing ever. I was in our bedroom, on all fours in the floor, grunting and maybe even screaming a little, digging my nails into the carpet, trying to get through each pain. But, even when the contraction was over, the back labor was still there. No, I mean absolutely no relief. It took me forever just to make it to the car and I kept thinking that I'd never make it to a hospital bed without the baby's head coming out. It wasn't that the contractions were that intense, but the back labor was. So, we began our five minute drive to the hospital at 11:00pm on July 21, with eight hours of easy labor and ten hours of very hard, active labor under our belts. I knew our baby would be born any moment.

Well, again, I was wrong...

As we pulled up to the hospital, the contractions got even more intense and I knew I must be in the transition stage of labor, where everything escalates and you go from seven to ten centimeters in dilation. I could hardly walk into the building so two kind strangers found me a wheel chair. I buried my face in my pillow while my husband did all the talking for me. Once we got checked in, we had to sit in the waiting room for a few minutes for a nurse to come take me back to a room. I sat in the wheelchair, in pain and scarred out of my mind, and looked around the room with a half closed eye. Families were in the waiting room, expectantly waiting to hear about their new granddaughter, brother, nephew or niece. I was struck by my own awkwardness. There I was writhing in pain and moaning! in a wheelchair while people sat there in the awkward dance of watching me and pretending not to watch me. Needless to say, I was trilled when the nurse came to get me.

Once in our room, Labor and Delivery Room 6, I was hooked up to all the monitors. Sure enough, I was in labor! The baby's heart rate was perfect and contractions were skyrocketing. This was it! As I settled in, though, the back labor only got worse. I couldn't find any relief. As a contraction would end, the back pain would only get worse. Suddenly, everything seemed to come down on me at once and I couldn't catch my breath. It was too much all at once. The contraction would start and I'd beat my hand against the bed rail or squeeze Red Head's hand until it almost broke. I needed a break, I needed to catch my breath. But, alas, it's called labor for a reason- it is the hardest work you will ever do in your entire life.

When the nurse came back in the check my progress, I mentally prepared myself to hear her say that I was complete and that it was time to have our baby. I never in my entire life ever could have expected what came out of her mouth. Three and a half centimeters.

What?!? Three and a half? I was two this morning! How could I have only progressed one and a half centimeters in eighteen hours of labor? No, it couldn't be right! Check again! But it was right. And then, I lost it. I became an emotional basketcase. Eighteen hours in and I was still hours and hours away from my baby being delivered. By 1:00am, after twenty hours of being awake and being in labor, I had had enough. I couldn't hold on any longer. I barely made it through the contractions, with only thirty seconds in between each one. I was hungry, tired, exhausted. More exhausted that I had ever been before. I was mentally worn down, and ready for someone to just cut my baby out of me. I couldn't go any longer.

At the end of my rope, I made a decision that I swore to myself that I would never make. I was the natural childbirth girl. I had preached and preached and shook my finger at more people that I knew. Natural childbirth was the only way to go. But for me, it wasn't going to be the way I went. Sometime between the hours of 1:00am and 3:00am, my doctor came in and I asked for the anesthesiologist.

I remember asking Red Head over and over again, "Are you disappointed in me? Are you disappointed in me?" His reply was always no, but I feared he was only giving me a brave face. I was beyond disappointed in myself. I had failed, hadn't I? I wanted everything done in a perfect way, and I was the weak link who messed everything up. Now I would be putting myself and my baby in needless harm's way all because the pain was too much to bear. Right or wrong, that's how I felt. I was a failure. I failed at the one thing that meant the world to me. And oh my, what would everyone else think of me? I would become a byword, a joke, an "I told you so" story. My pride was absolutely stripped away from me. Humbled does not begin to describe how I felt. And to be honest with you, I believe with all my heart that that was the Lord's doing.

No, I'm not saying that I think God made me take the drugs. That's silly. But if you know me personally at all, you know that I was MORE than prideful about natural childbirth. It became an identity for me. I lived it and breathed it. I spent hours everyday talking about it, thinking about it, researching it, preaching it. I looked down on those who didn't share my opinions. I was right, you were wrong. Natural childbirth is the only way to go if you love your baby at all... Yes, I was the worst kind of Pharisee. And in those hours of labor, the Lord brought me down in the hardest way possible. I cannot recall a time more recently in my life when I had been more humble than then. And to continue in my honesty, I'm so very glad. I'm so glad He humbled me. So glad He brought me down. So glad that He didn't let me continue in my prideful sin. So glad He moved in my heart while I laid on that hospital bed. I have no regrets now, I know He was in control the entire time. And the pain and everything that happened was His good will for me.

Once the anesthesiologist came in and sat me up to prep my back, the contractions and back labor worsened, and I could barely sit still through the pain. But, I did, and thirty minutes later, I was lying in bed, resting and finding relief. After the epidural, I went from 5 to 8 to 10 centimeters in the span of about four hours. It flew by. Suddenly, around seven am, the nurse came in to check me and YES! FINALLY! I was complete! It was time to push! My family left the room, while the doctor and my nurses came in to get everything ready. This was it! It was finally happening!

My sweet husband, who had been awake with me since the previous day when the contractions started, had only had a small amount of food and a large amount of coffee in the previous hours. That equaled a bad case of nausea for him. Moments before it was time to start pushing, he got the bucket so he could puke. Oh no, you don't! I was beyond nauseated and knew that if he went, I would too! Thankfully, as soon as I started pushing, his nausea ended and he got in the game. There was no way I could have done it without him!!

We pushed for thirty minutes, which included one break. It was the most surreal moment of my entire life. I literally felt like I was hovering above my own body, watching the entire scene unfold from a distance. It was incredible. When they checked me the last time, the doctor mentioned that the baby was "right there" and after two pushes, they moved the mirror over so that I could see my sweet baby's head coming out. Oh yes, he was right there! Seeing his head gave me the strength that I needed and with just a few more pushes, out he came. I saw something fly out between my legs and felt the strangest "bloop" in my stomach. And then, the most amazing sound I have ever heard. A cry. My baby's cry. My husband got to catch the baby and immediately I heard, "It's a boy!" A boy!! A boy!!! It's a boy! They put him across my stomach and there for the first time, I saw his face. The face of the person I had known so intimately for nine months and yet was a stranger to. And there he was. No longer in my stomach, but lying on top of it. Crying and crying. I reached out and touched his slimy, precious little body and my entire being melted. Love. Like I had never known could even exist. Love at first sight is possible, I know that now. Daddy cut his umbilical cord while I took in his face, his hands, his little body, every little part of him I studied. I heard Red Head say, "He has ten fingers and ten toes! He's perfect!" We sat there as a family of three while my husband and I balled our eyes out. I've never seen a more clear miracle in my whole life. Life had been made. And I was holding it in my own hands.

After a few moments of family bonding, the nurses took Baby Boy to be cleaned off, weighed, and measured. 7 pounds, 10 ounces. 20 3/4 inches long. A perfect baby boy. The nurses asked us what his name was and all we could do was laugh. He didn't have a name, we would have to discuss that. Baby Boy Woods was taken up to the nursery and Daddy escorted him. As everyone left the Delivery room, suddenly, I was alone. Alone. I hadn't been alone in nine months. It was terrifiying. My baby wasn't with me. I had no idea what to do. Thankfully, about twenty minutes later, the nurses came back in to clean me up and take me up to my new room. Once in my room, I anxiously awaited the arrival of my husband and our new son. I was able to find my cell phone and called him to see what the hold up was. I wanted to hold my baby! I was having withdrawls!

Apparently during delivery, Baby Boy swallowed a good bit of amniotic fluid which caused his oxygen saturation levels to be too low for them to release him back to me. So they watched him for an hour and a half until his levels rose. (They eventually had to take him back to the nursery to pump his stomach to get all the fluid out because he was having a hard time breathing and choking on it). After two hours of not seeing my new baby, they finally wheeled him in the room. A wave of relief flew over me. At last! Our family was all stuffed into my room, waiting to meet our baby for the first time but honestly, I didn't care about anyone- I just wanted to hold my baby. As everyone peered into his bassinet, oohing and cooing and taking loads of pictures, I made it very clear that I would be holding him first. Red Head placed our sweet baby in my arms, and the floodgates of tears opened. My baby. In my arms. Nothing could be sweeter.

While Baby Boy was in the nursery, Red Head and I talked on our cell phones about what we should name our baby. However, we never came to a definitive answer. Everyone kept asking, "What's his name? What's his name?" I kept saying "I don't know." They thought I was joking, that I just didn't want to tell them without Red Head being there. That was also true, but honestly, I didn't know what his name was! :) So, once the family had seen Baby Boy and mommy had cried all over him, I knew it was time for the poor thing to get a name! I asked my wonderful husband to christen Baby Boy with a name. "Tell everyone what his name is!" (I was dying to know, too!) My husband proudly pronounced, "Andrew James Woods, Jr." Yes!! A junior!! That's what I wanted all along! Woohoo!!

We spent the next two and a half days in the hospital recovering, spending time with friends and family, and getting to know Red Head Jr. It was the most perfect three days of my whole life. It was as if we were in a little bubble of love and joy where no bad or evil could creep in. It was beautiful. We brought Jr. home the following Saturday afternoon and every moment since then has been more wonderful than I could have ever imagined.

No, it didn't happen at all like I had planned. It wasn't like I expected. It was better. And I am grateful for how everything unfolded. It was exactly the way the Lord had planned for it to be. Andrew James Woods, Jr. came into our lives on Thursday, July 22, 2010 at 7:54 am, one day before his due date and after twenty-six hours of labor. He has been such a blessing to us for the past three weeks and six days. I am so grateful to be his mother and to have the blessing to watch this precious child grow up. He is such a blessing to our family. And yes, he has red hair. :)

P.S. My back was extremely sore for a week and a half after Red Head Jr's birth from the back labor. If you've ever experienced it before, you have my deepest condolensences. :)

A Pause from our Regularly Scheduled Events....

My Dearest Firstborn,

Sweet Jiji, today is July 15, 2010, just eight days away from your due date. To be honest, I thought that you would have already made your grand entrance by now. And to be even more honest, I feel like I am becoming more insane with every day that passes without your coming. In short, I am so very ready for you to enter this world.

I have been holding you since the day you were first created. Since the day two cells joined together and started making lots of little cells. I've held you everyday for the last nine months;  but for me, that isn't enough. I need more. I need to see your face, to look into your eyes, to kiss your cheeks, and hold you tightly in my arms. You and I know each other so well and yet at the same time we are still strangers. You know me (and my insides) in a way that no one else does. And I know you more than any other human in the world does right now. And yet, we have never met face to face. I don't know what or who you look like. Or even what gender you are! I don't know your personality, besides the fact that you love to kick, get hiccups all the time, and are a night owl like your daddy. I don't know what color your hair is, what color your eyes are, the shape and curves of your face. It's a mystery to me. You are a mystery to me. 

I think about you being knit inside of me, every little centimeter and inch of your growing body being carefully crafted by the Lord. It blows my mind. I remember the very first time I heard your heart beating. It was the most terrifying day of my life, I thought I was losing you. And then, in an instant, I heard your heart beating wildly at the doctors office. My life has never been the same since that day. I've never been the same. That's the day I became a mommy. That is the day I fell head over heels in love with you. Suddenly, you weren't just a thought anymore, you were real. So real. Flesh and blood with a heart that beat and beat and beat. My baby. I never expected you and yet now I cannot begin to imagine life without you. And I cannot even begin to imagine what life will be like when we finally meet face to face. Will you know me? Will you know that I'm your mom? Will you recognize your daddy's voice? You know him, he is the sweet and silly one who sings and talks to you all the time. I hope you recognize us and find comfort in our arms. I hope you know how much you are loved the instant that you meet us. I hope you are overwhelmed with love. 

There are so many things that I want for you, sweet baby. I want you to learn. I want to teach you all about the Lord and the Word and the world and life and all there is to know. I want to tell you who Jesus is, what He did for you , and how He loves you more than I could ever dream to. I want to open the Bible to your little eyes and heart, sharing all the stories and Truth that the Lord gave us. I want you to see the stories leap off the page and into your imagination and heart, transforming your heart of stone into a heart of flesh who knows that there is no life without the Lord and the grace of Calvary. I want your life to be passionately about following after Him, abandoning everything else to seek Him. I know that may mean that He may take you away from me one day. He might send you to a country or land far away for His glory's sake, and although I cannot begin to imagine that, I hope you always know to follow His leading and not mom's. His ways are higher and greater. His dreams for you are even bigger than my dreams for you. And He will love you and protect you and care for you in a way that even mommy can't. Remember, He created you, not me. 

I want to teach you colors and numbers and letters. I want to watch your eyes as you figure things out. I want to see your world grow and expand every day as your little brain grows and grows and stores more knowledge. I want to help you with your homework, your reports, teach you to read, teach you to make your bed and brush your own teeth. I want to teach you how to type, how to grow vegetables, how to bake a cake for your dad. I want to teach you to honor your father and to respect elders. I want to teach you another language (although Daddy may not like me teaching you Russian). I want to share your dreams and your delights. I want to be your best friend and your mentor. I want to be your cuddle buddy, your security blanket, your mommy. I want to hold you, kiss you, squeeze you, make you feel better when you are hurt or sick. I want to show you that you will never be alone in this world. I want you to watch me and Daddy. I want you to see how much we love each other and learn from us what marriage and fellowship mean so that one day you can find love for yourself. I want you to watch us and see that faith is real every day, not just on Sundays. I want you to see us fail so that you can learn what it means to forgive, to repent, and to rely on God's grace and mercy. I want you to watch your father and learn what a man of God really looks like. I want you to see his example and either live up to it (if you are a boy) or to seek a mate like that one day (if you are a girl). 

I want your daddy to teach you how to memorize Scripture, how to love the Word passionately, how to play the guitar and piano. How to love people and enjoy fellowship with others. How to play basketball and ping pong. How to style red hair (if you happen to have red hair), how to be a faithful friend, and how to love unconditionally. I know that Daddy is going to be your best friend. He is definitely the better of the two of us. I cannot wait to see him hold you for the first time, I think it will be one of the best days of my whole life. He is going to teach you so much and love you so much that I don't even have the words to express it with! He's already crazy about you and he can't wait to hold you himself. I hope you know that your daddy is a picture of God's love for you. Your daddy loves you so much, would do anything to protect you and to see you grow, and he is here to teach, lead, and when necessary, correct you. When you see your Daddy's love for you, know that God's love for you is even bigger, even better, even more perfect. I bet you won't even be able to imagine that! 

I hope you like the home we have set up. We worked hard to get it ready in time for your arrival. Daddy worked so hard to paint your room and bathroom (and the whole house!). I painted you a mural on your wall, a tree with a monkey in it. I hope you like it. Your granddaddy made your changing table. It's beautiful. And your Aunt Emily got you that glider so that we could have somewhere nice to have our 3 am feedings and story times. And your grandmomma got you the bedding you will be sleeping on. Its cute, I hope you like it. I put a teddy bear in your crib, it is one that your daddy gave me. His name is Drew Bear, and I know that he will take care of you and comfort you just like he did for me.

There are so many people that love you, sweet Jiji. So many people that can't wait to meet you. Your Aunt Amanda is ready to evict you from your current womb because she is dying to meet you face to face. And your Cousin Nathan can't wait to play with you. Oh my, you have a lot of cousins already: Jacob, Caleb, Joshua, David, Elly, Zech, Blake, Brittany, Michael, Matthew, Maddy, and Nathan. You will have plenty of friends to play with! We will go visit your Uncle Ken and Aunt Shannon down in Atlanta and go swimming at Uncle Eric and Aunt Amanda's house. I'm sure your Aunt Marie will be babysitting you all the time and spoiling you rotten. And if she doesn't, I know for a fact that your four grandparents will spoil you rotten like you can't even believe. They all love you so much and are so ready to meet you. 

Sweet baby, I am so ready to meet you and I hope you decide to come soon. I know it could be up to three more weeks before we meet face to face, but I'm hoping that you will make it sooner. I love you so very much and I am so anxious to see your face for the first time and hold you in my arms. Daddy and I love you and always will. I hope you know that will never change, we will always love you and we will always be here for you- your biggest fans and best friends. 

Come, soon, sweet Jiji. Mommy's ready. 

Love,

Your Mom

Act III

You would have thought that my pride would have been smashed, demolished, obliterated. I had committed a failure of epic proportions. I had facebook friended Red Head before we had actually ever introduced ourselves. And guess what? For all the good points facebook has, one thing it doesn't have is how to "un-friend" someone before they respond to you. So, I was stuck. I imagined Red Head logging onto the internet, checking his email and facebook, finding wall posts and random event invitations, and... a friend request from a secret admirer who forgot the whole SECRET part! You would have thought my pride would have gone straight down the drain right then and there. But then....

wow i didn't even know your name, you're quick. i see you like Jesus. nice! im glad i asked you a question. God really does work in mysterious ways

He. Wrote. On. My. Facebook. Wall. Red Head. He actually accepted my friendship (miracle of all miracles!) and instead of running away screaming and hiding, he wrote on my wall! When I think about it, I can still feel the buzz of adrenaline and excitement when the little email notification told me that Red Head himself had written on my wall. I poured over the little blurb. I read and reread it a million times until I had it memorized. He wrote to me. He knew I existed. Little did we both realize how the Lord works in such mysterious ways. I thought I was just helping God by being a stalker. But, no. I was playing a part in the precious, beautiful plan He had already written for my life. 

So, he had written me. What was I supposed to do? Write him back? Pretend to be aloof? Well, you know me... I had to write him back. 

ha, i've got sweet detective skills. no, i actually just saw you in a picture with my friends jon and kaitlyn. i see you like Jesus, too! that's awesome, i am pretty fond of Him. so, were you as worried by the test speech today as i was? i've got to admit i'm a bit intimidated!

Ha. I was a big fat liar. Yes, I did see him in a picture with my friends. AFTER I stalked his facebook page. Sweet detective skills? I guess you could call it that. Pathetic, would be another word for it. But, alas, I was a little puppy dog for that boy. 

We wrote back to each other once more about the upcoming test and then that was it. I saw him at class the next week, we said hi, and then nothing. Silence. He didn't sit by me like I thought he would. He didn't wait to talk to me after class. He just walked out like his life hadn't changed since meeting me. Ouch, maybe it hadn't ....

Going back to class once more, I chalked up the whole thing to just a silly girl's dream of a gorgeous Red Head and a few too many hormones raging inside her mind. If he wasn't going to make a move to even talk to me or get to know me, clearly I didn't need to waste any more of my time on the matter. It stung, but I knew better than to be the pathetic puppy dog lovesick girl one minute longer. So, I let it go. I could enjoy the sight of God's creation- Red Head's chiseled face, tall frame, and luscious hair- but not let it make me go weak in the knees anymore. Well, truthfully, there wasn't much I could do about the whole "weak in the knees" thing, but I could totally stop myself from staring and drooling. So, that was the end. I was done....

... Until he stopped me after class to talk. We stood outside of our lecture hall as people passed by us, in between us, and seemed to buzz all around us. But he was the only one I saw in the hall that day. I remember hearing people all around us, but he was the only other person in the whole world that afternoon. We talked and talked and talked like we had known each other forever. He told me about his upcoming mission trip to a country in Central Asia. I told him about my plans to go to the Southern Baltic region for two weeks that summer on a mission trip. We seemed to bond instantly. There were so many things to talk about. In fact, as we stood in the hall talking, I never even realized that time was passing so fast. There I was, talking to Red Head. It was magical. I felt giddy and light and free and completely nervous. But I also felt a strange peace inside, one I couldn't put my finger on. It felt... right. But what on earth did that mean?

We talked straight though to the next class period. Oops! I was late for my next lecture! As I tried not to freak out about missing the beginning of class (See, Mom! I didn't always like skipping class! Red Head was a bad influence on me. Haha, just kidding!), I realized that Red Head was inviting me to something. "Wait, what did you say?" He had invited me to NoonDay, a free lunch held every Friday at the Baptist Collegiate Ministry on campus. I told him I had to work and I wasn't sure if I could make it, but that I would try to get off in order to come. Lame, huh? "Hey boss, can I take off work early for the afternoon to go eat a free lunch with a total hunk? Thanks! Oh, and what about a raise?"

He gave me all the info for the Friday lunch and then gave me his phone number so that I could call him with any questions or to let him know if I wouldn't be able to make it. Ok, was this guy just being a super awesome and friendly brother in Christ? Or was he interested in me? Or both? I totally couldn't tell but I desperately wanted to find out more. 

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get off work for the lunch that week. I sent Red Head a text message to let him know and he was very kind about it. Very polite. Very proper. I was sure that I had just given up my one and only chance with the guy. But again, the Lord had other plans. 

The next Friday, I was able to get off work for the afternoon, so I made my way to the BCM to find Red Head. Of course, I was too much of a chicken to go by myself and thankfully, my precious friend Laura came with me. Once we got there, no sign of Red Head. We got in line to get our food, still no sign of Red Head. We found some friends to sit with, and still- no sign of Red Head. And then, there he was. I saw the back of his head (hair that red is very easy to spot!) and watched as he turned around to look at me. Life was suddenly in slow motion. He caught my gaze, flashed that gorgeous smile at me, and gave me a little half wave. YES! He still knew I existed. Life was good. 

After we got done eating lunch, Laura and I made our way around the BCM, socializing and catching up with friends. I walked from table to table saying hi to all my friends, and then, just like a movie, I turned around only to find myself face to face with Red Head. 

Suddenly, he seemed very shy. He was more quiet than usual. Less talkative. But the few words that he did say were monumental to me. He invited me, ME!, to hang out with him and his friends the following evening. A movie, dinner, and then games. Oh, yes, he definitely knew I existed. And can you guess what my answer was?

To be continued...

Act II

Since I had abstained from any boy-craziness over the past year and since I had absolutely no idea who Red Head was, I thought it best to be cautious and slow. Aka- don't throw myself at him. If anything was ever going to happen, if we were ever going to meet, I wanted him to be the one to make the first move. I did not want to meet him under the pretense of my own longings, but because he wanted to meet me as well. So, I devised a plan. If he was going to sit on the front row, then I would commit social suicide and do the same, risking being seen as a nerd. But hey, I thought he was worth it. I wouldn't make the first move for him but I would put myself in close enough proximity for him to notice and talk to me. I thought my plan was genius. So, the next class period, I sat about four seats down from where he sat the previous class. And, just like clockwork, he came in, sat down in the same seat, and immediately took my breath away. I was amazed at how his presence could do that. Just sitting five feet from him got my heart beating like I was on a roller coaster. And you know what? It was just fun. 

It turns out that sitting in such close proximity to such a hunk didn't do much for my attention span. The geek inside of me wanted so much to pay attention to the awesome lecture we had the privilege of sitting under. I wanted to listen, wanted to soak in all I could to learn this interesting subject (and effectively make an A in the class) but how could I focus on a Supreme Court ruling when the most gorgeous creature in the world sat only a few feet from me? I was pitiful. During the entire lecture, I spent my time staring at his shoes, his backpack, and occasionally I would build up enough courage to sneak a quick peek at his face, which would then turn my own face into a flaming red ball of embarrassment. 

I had it bad. 

Luckily, for the sake of my GPA, Red Head started skipping class. He would come every now and then, make me miss an entire lecture, and then walk out like he hadn't just sent a tornado of emotions right through the small, unsuspecting town of my heart. As the semester wore on, he started coming to class less and less. And eventually, I stopped missing him when he didn't make it to class. I stopped thinking about him on my long drives home. And then, it was like I completely forgot all about him... until the end of the semester, when he decided it was time to come back to class. 

I still remember the day he came back. He walked in with those same light colored jeans, a polo shirt, and the same leather shoes on. As he walked in, I looked up, caught a glance, and suddenly, all the weeks of wishing came back with a vengeance. Just seeing him was enough to reduce me to a puddle. I was a sad little puppy dog...

I sat in the same hard, uncomfortable theater-style chair that I had been in the entire semester. I tried diligently to read through some of the court cases we had been going through. That didn't work. I couldn't hold my attention on anything except the fact that Red Head, that gorgeous creature, was now sitting mere feet away from me again. And then, in the heat of desperation, I made my first attempt to find out anything I could about this boy. 

The professor called the roll. Name after name, I sat in expectation. Waiting. He went through the As, the Bs, the Cs, then to my name in the Ds. Name after name and Red Head never flinched. Never moved. Was he not on the roll? What was the problem? Did I miss him saying, "Here!" ?? And then- a breakthrough. At last! The Ws. The teacher called a final name and Red Head quietly said the first word I ever heard come out of his mouth, "Here!" This may sound pitiful, but if you have ever been in love, you will surely understand. Hearing that one little word pour forth from his lips was like music to my ears. His voice was deep, soft, full of base, and just so smooth. It was music music music. And, finally, I knew his name. And it was the most perfect name I'd ever heard. The kind of name I wanted to pass down to my children. He needed a Junior to be named after him, the name was just too perfect to leave in the past. It rang like music in my ears. And you know what is funny? His first name was the exact same name of the perfect man I always dreamed of marrying in my head. It was my favorite boy name. And this was just too good to be true. 

That day, after two more classes, I went home and straight the computer, pulling up facebook as fast as my DSL would allow. It wasn't fast enough. I was frantic. I needed to know who this person was. I would look him up, probably see that he had a girlfriend or that he was a frat boy or some crazy party guy. But really, I knew he wasn't. If my intuition were right, I would find out that he was even more perfect that I had already made him up in my mind. I was right. 

Yes, I stalked Red Head on facebook. I found his page, skimmed through the About Me section and found a man who was in love with the Lord in a real and beautiful way. His music and movie choices were slightly different than mine, but were more than acceptable. And even better? We had a lot of mutual friends. A lot. So I wondered, how did I not already know this boy? How had I never met him before? I was a little ticked at my friends for never bringing Red Head around for me to meet. But, alas, I knew his name, and blessing beyond blessing- he was single and loved the Lord! At this point, the story was over for me. I needed him to marry me. But wait, I wanted to be single, didn't I? What about all my plans to be a single woman on the mission field? Just like always, the plans that I gave the Lord for my life weren't the same that He had in mind for me. And thus, my plans and ideas unraveled more and more every time I saw and thought about Red Head. 

The next class period, I sat in my usual seat and in walked Red Head, picking the seat just three down from me. I think I remember sweat pouring out of me at maximum speeds. I was nervous beyond words. He was so close. And me, the little puppy dog- I was becoming a nervous pool of sweat. It was bad. And then..... life changed.... again. 

I was doing all I could to read through the Constitutional Amendments in an attempt to keep my eyes from wandering over to Red Head. Hey, I didn't want him to know that I was facebook stalking him, and lets face it, totally entranced by him. I didn't want to scare him away! And by all means, I didn't want him to see the drool inexplicably dribbling down my mouth when I caught a glimpse of his face. Oh, I was a goner! 

So, I sat there, pretending to be reading some amendment, and then I heard it- his voice. That sweet music to my ears. I let the deep soulful voice wash over me, practically bathing in how beautiful it was, until fear struck me. Wait! Who was he talking to? Oh no, was he talking to ME?!?! I looked over at him, and yep, he was talking to me. Oh no! Had he seen my ridiculous face when he first spoke to me? Did he see the drool? Did facebook tell him that I had stalked his page? Wait, what did he say?

He had asked me about the impending test. Had I started studying for it yet? Its funny how I can remember so many things about our first meeting, but I have no idea what I said to his question. All I remember is that I was so tongue-tied that I couldn't even make words come out for a few horrifying moments. He had made me speechless. And if you know me personally, you'll that that was a first for me. I'm never speechless. I always have too many things to say! 

He spoke to me. And I answered something back. I mumbled. I tripped over my words. It was sad. But he had spoken to me. He knew I existed! We said nothing to one another after that. Silence filled the air. But my heart lept with joy. I had talked to Red Head. I was giddy. And then I went home and did something ridiculous. I "friended" him on facebook. The only problem? We had never introduced ourselves to one another in the few words we had exchanged. I wasn't supposed to know his name...oops! 

To be continued...