Dearest sweet Asher,

          No one could’ve prepared me for the crazy overflowing love I have for you. You’re two weeks old now and I grow to love you more with every new day. I carried you inside me for 9 months. You became a part of me in a way I didn’t realize was happening. I could put my hand on my growing stomach and know you were safe. I could take naps, go through my day, make dinner and put my hand right where you were moving. The day you were born, you became your own little person. I pushed in agony for what seemed like eternity, I couldn't bear it another minute, I couldn't wait another second, and then the moment came. They placed this sweet, innocent, screaming little baby on my chest and it was like we had been a part for months and you were back in my arms right where you were meant to be, screaming for mom to hold you close. I couldn’t hold you close enough. The love was thick but I knew God brought you into this world for everyone to enjoy. I could no longer have you all to myself. You were meant for a great purpose. You were born to make others smile. You are God’s little miracle and I’m just your mother who will love you throughout your life. I couldn’t bring you into this world. I couldn’t make you healthy or plan out your life. I couldn't make that happen. It was God who knit you together in my womb, every detail, every hair on your head. I can’t say it’s any easier to give you away even for an hour. Every time someone wants to hold you, it feels like duct tape being ripped off my hairy arm. I fidget in my seat and tears well up until I have you back in my arms. I want you near.
           But one day I will have to let you go to school, to college, to marry; I will have to let you go discover God’s plan for your life. I will have to let you go. Right now, today, you are my sweet baby. You are attached to me, a part of me in every way. This insane love I’m experiencing for you, my son, I’m reminded of how God felt about his son when he was crucified on the cross for us. I can’t imagine watching you suffer, being kicked, mobbed and crucified but God watched his son so we might have life again. It brings me to tears to think of the love God has for us that he would do that, that he would send his only son. As you lay next to me snuggled up in a cozy white blanket on this rainy May day, you bring me to life, I want to freeze time and hold you close forever. No one could’ve prepared me for this mother’s love.

My heart overflows.

My sweet boy, you have my heart.


A favorite author Ann Voskamp beautifully says, "A mother is . . .Someone who keeps on going another eighty hours because raising generations matters and weaving families matters and tying heart strings matters and these people here in hidden places matter.
Somebody willing to feed and lead, lay down her life and pick up her cross, give of her time because they have her heart. .
Someone who would pour out and bend down and surrender not only to the physical pain of childbirth but the far deeper, unending heart pain of letting go, letting go, letting go –　 from the womb, from the arms, from the front door. Someone who would know that umbilical cords can be cut — but heart strings never can."

You are part of my heart walking on the outside of me.

http://www.aholyexperience.com/ann-voskamp/