As my body slowly starts to put on weight instead of losing it and the baby bump grows into sight, I’ve been daydreaming about the beautiful, exhausting days that are ahead.
I’m excited to make parenthood memories with my husband, raising a child to hopefully be the light—sunshine—to everyone they meet.
That reality has hit harder now that we know the gender of our sweet baby. Mixed into the below reflection of learning to embrace my baby being everything they are meant to be–even if that looks a little like me–is the reveal of a baby boy or baby girl. I hope you enjoy my thoughts and our gender announcement! 💙🩷
Restless Feet: Learning to Embrace Who My Child Will Be
I’ve stayed awake, worrying my kid will turn out like me. I’ve sat crisscrossed with my prayer journal on my thigh, praying they’ll be smart, brave, and kind like their dad, but as each sloppy sentence follows the next, there’s no mention of what I would like them to inherit from me.
Conviction sits heavy on my chest. Do I hate myself so much that I don’t believe I could love a baby version of me? Aren’t I wonderfully made too?
I hold back tears because all I see in myself is my clingy inner child. Anxious. Too sassy for her own good sometimes. Able to give the best southern stink eye. A perfectionist who shuts down when she feels she can’t succeed.
In the blight of self-deprecation, God challenged me to find something beautiful in my soul. After laughing at the notion, the first kind thing that came to mind was a heart that ADORES the tiny things in life.
I stop to stare at the squirrels just because they’re cute. I squeal at spiders, but I have my husband take care of them because it hurts my soul to think of the spider family we’re separating it from. Roses are beautiful, but a droopy wildflower catches my eye faster.
How happy I would be to have a child who takes time for the tiny things!
How happy I would be for them to write about their experiences like I do!
I don’t know what God has in store for this child, but He already knows every detail of their personality.
The fear comes and goes, but something shifted the day I saw our baby on the big screen. They bounced off the walls of my uterus, hyped up on Fruit Punch Body Armor.
When our baby finally wore themselves out, their little feet cricketed until they entered dream state, softly rubbing together like cold hands in winter… And like me when I can’t fall asleep.
When I have big ideas with no room to go and a husband who says it’s time to go to bed, I rub my feet and count sheep until the room grows dim.
That’s when I finally realized…
My fears have me believing that if my baby turns out like me, I’d somehow love him or her less. That the grace I refuse to give myself would drip onto them like the poison it is.
When that room lit up pink, I learned that my fears are the opposite of true. Seeing my child be a little like me makes my heart swell in love for my own restless feet, not love her any less… Merely love myself more.
Sweet little girl, please turn out a little more like me.
I hope you enjoyed my motherly ramblings! If you’d like more, check out my newsletter. I’m trying to learn how to update it more often. 😅
Sunshine in the Haze 
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