Baby mine.

It is Tuesday, June 12th, 9:57 pm. 

   I guess I should probably be sleeping, gearing up for the labor that is supposedly, HOPEFULLY going to begin soon.  But I am not.  I feel the need to blog.  To write.  To process.  To decipher some of these feelings in my mind and put them on paper to somehow preserve them.  So it's not as if they never happened.

   There are so many emotions coursing through my system right now.  Weariness is one that comes to mind.  And not just in the physical sense, but the emotional weariness.  Nervous excitement is another one.  Because labor/delivery is so exciting and amazing and awesome and inspiring, but also nervousness because it also hurts like no hurt known to man.  Get it?  Known to man? 

   But the prevailing emotion over all is a strange sense of loss and sadness.  Odd, on the eve of a new life, a precious new baby girl.  But what I fear losing is the beautiful balance I have as a mother of one.  That tangible, fiercely devoted connection I have formed with this tiny person who first made me a mother.  My first child.  My first daughter.  My Jocelyn. 

   Jocelyn means "Joy of God's salvation" and it is so fitting as she has brought unlimited bushels of joy into my life.  She has reminded me of the goodness of God, the depths of His love for us, and yes, the incredible joy of His salvation, because He gave His child for us.  And that I cannot begin to fathom.

   But I'm so scared of changing any of that.  The bond that we share.  The closeness I feel with her.  For so long she was Daddy's Girl in every sense of the word, and over the past month she has been developing into a Mama's Girl.  She prefers me, calls for me, wants me, cries for me.  I must admit, I love it.  It feels so wonderful to be irreplaceable.  To be wanted and longed for.  Needed.  It's just coming at a bad time, with baby sister right around the corner.
  
   I know she'll be so thankful for a sister one day, as they will come to love each other in that special, unique way that only sisters can.  But for now, it feels as if she's getting "pushed off the lap" and I'm so terrified of losing my baby.

Dearest Jocelyn,

  I rocked you to sleep tonight.  You snuggled up close and didn't make a peep as you drank your milk and I read you one of our favorite stories.  You know, the one where the Daddy bear tells his baby bear, " I am your way home, you are my new path. 

I am your dry towel, you are my wet bath. 

I am your dinner, you are my chocolate cake.

I am your bedtime, you are my wide awake.
I am your finish line, you are my race.
I am your praying hands, you are my saying grace.
I am your lullaby, you are my peekaboo.
I am your good night kiss, you are my I love you."

 

   And then the tears started streaming down my face as I closed the book and sang "Baby Mine" to you.  I made up some of my own words, because I couldn't remember all of the real ones.  You, baby girl, were the one who made me a Mommy.  You were the one, who changed me forever.  

   It feels like yesterday that I was bringing you home, all wrapped up in your snowman suit.  You were the best Christmas present I have ever received.  Your head of soft, dark hair framed your perfect little face.  You had your mama's feet (I'm sorry about that) and a mewling little cry.  You slept all the time, and it seemed you never quite wanted to bother anyone too much.  You weren't even days old before you had your Daddy and I completely wrapped around your tiny little fingers.  

    I am so excited for you to meet your baby sister.  I just know the two of you are going to become such good friends.  Just you wait and see, it will be so much fun.  But at first, it might feel a little different.  Mommy might sleep more, and lay down when you'd like her to play.  But just know that no one, nothing in this whole world could ever or will ever replace you.  Know that we love you so much, and always will.  

 

Know, that you will always be my baby.

 

With all my love,

~Mama