Beginning Again

Sam is looking a lot like a little boy these days.  He's changing proportionally every day it seems.  He looked at an ornament with a picture of all the grandkids on my parent's tree and said "I was a baby boy then."  Then.  A long, long time ago. 

Josh and I realized that when Sam turns three (mid January), it will be as long as we have gone without adding new baby.   It's been a (relatively) long time since I was pregnant, waiting with anticipation, nerves, and joy to meet a new special person.  Our babies were all born in January, so I know well the feeling of waiting uncomfortably, impatiently, for something during the Christmas season.  The feeling of anticipation pairs well with Christmas, when we remember how the "weary world rejoices" when the Savior finally appears.   

​Over Thanksgiving, we got to play at Edisto Beach with Josh's family.  It was a wonderful time of food and football and a sort of insane amount of seashell crafts.  I did a lot of knitting, which is always good for my heart, and I took a break from thinking.  This is usually pretty hard for my anxious brain, but thanks to all the resting practice I've been doing, I slipped into it pretty easily.  

I browsed knitting patterns a lot, just sort of aimlessly looking at stuff, when all of a sudden, I found her baby blanket pattern.  I have avoided choosing a blanket pattern for Baby Girl or for starting on the project because I didn't want to finish it before we knew who she was.  I need it to be connected to her as a flesh and blood individual.  But when I saw this pattern, I knew it was perfect.  It has a squishy, textured center square surrounded by a lotus flower motif on the edges.  I knew instantly it would be perfect for her.  I bought the yarn on the way home.  

Choosing a pattern and buying yarn may not seem like an adoption milestone, but it is a big deal in my heart.  It feels like finally, truthfully, peacefully beginning again.  It is a way for me to open my heart again in the journey to my daughter, and to plan and hope for the day when she will want the comfort and warmth of her Mommy blanket.  ​​

Merry Christmas, Baby Girl.