A Letter to My Growing Baby

I hope ya’ll had a great Memorial Weekend!! I finally enjoyed some sunshine and finally have tan lines. I love my vitamin D.

I wanted to share a letter I wrote to my growing bean. As you all know it was quite a surprise when we found out we were pregnant, and since then I have been on a roller coaster of emotions. Marc got to feel the baby move for the first time on Sunday night, and consequently it was this little moment that prompted my letter…….

“To My Blessing of a Baby,

Yes you were/are a blessing. Where to even begin. To be honest, your dad and I weren’t expecting you for another 4 years. We had mapped out our family plan, with our careers, school, trips, and races scheduled and planned, and your arrival wasn’t for another 4-5 years. We soon found out that God had a much bigger and better plan.

I didn’t see His plan at first as bigger and better. In fact, I was more mad than joyful when I learned my plan was thwarted. My 4 year plan came tumbling down, and it left me with bitterness and anger. I felt my life was ruined; endless tears followed.

You see Bean, I had plans for a marathon PR, school to be finished for both your dad and I, careers started, a new home, a couple dogs, and big trips before your expected arrival. I had “me” and “my plans” on my brain. A child would put a bump in the road I wasn’t willing to climb over just yet.

Nearly 4 months after marrying your daddy, those plans were changed. You were on your way, and I didn’t even know it. I had this full schedule of Spring and Summer races, with some Fall relays and 50k’s planned. I was cranking out the miles and spending countless hours dedicated to running and building strength.

In February 2014, I started getting scared I could be pregnant. By March it became a reality. At 8 weeks I took a couple pregnancy tests and they told me you were coming. I cried, I yelled at God and I hid the truth from nearly everyone.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love you, I just didn’t feel it was the right “timing” for you. I wasn’t ready for a pregnancy, or ready for a blessing, because it wasn’t in “my plan.” You and I ran our fist race together, a half marathon in Bozeman MT days after I took the test. No one knew in my family I had a growing Bean.

At 9 weeks your daddy and I heard your heartbeat for the first time. We had no idea that little heartbeat would slowly begin to eat away at my bitterness and anger. You won your first race shortly after and mommy had a PR.

The planner inside me didn’t know where to even begin to start planning for your arrival, so I didn’t. I lived in denial, and thought that by avoiding any type of plan, possibly it would all disappear. I wished it were all a dream.

Days after you were 13 weeks old, we ran the 118th Boston Marathon. An epic year and an exhilarating race.  My arm proudly or selfishly wearing our names “Bree and Baby;” it was more selfish than proud as it would make everyone aware as to why my race time was so much slower.

We slowly told family and friends you were expected to arrive on October 24, 2014…..I choked back tears with every announcement. I hid the bitterness I felt after everyone’s “Congratulations!!”

At 14 weeks you had a trail race adventure in Zion National Park, with rain, mud and snow. You became my running buddy, literally. Wherever I ran you were there, no matter the pace, the hurt, the pain, we finished every race and run together. I didn’t know if this brought me joy or bitterness.

15 weeks and it was time for another checkup. This time I went by myself. I heard your heartbeat and saw you resting content in my womb. I asked for your pictures to hang on my fridge, and for the first time my tears of guilt and anger turned to joy…..

That same weekend we ran another race, one of the biggest road races in the U.S., Bloomsday. You helped mommy PR yet again. I started reading you stories from your first book we bought you in Boston every day when I got off from work. It was always the first thing I did when I walked through the door.

I started to feel more and more of your movements as the weeks progressed. I could feel your little legs kicking. When you were 17 weeks we road tripped to Portland for the Rock’n’Roll Half Marathon. It wasn’t my best race, with my piercing headache and your fluttering kicks hitting my bladder.

But for the first time it didn’t matter. We ran the race together with your dad, and we finished, and for once that’s all that mattered.

Your tiny movements, your quick heartbeat, and your pictures on our fridge had slowly melted your mother’s heart….

On Sunday night,  just over 18 weeks old, you were being quite active. As your dad and I were laying in bed, I could feel you moving all around. I grabbed your dad’s hand and placed it on my lower abdomen, and for the first time he felt your flitting kicks, your little movements.

For the first time, I thanked God for you, our blessing, our precious baby. For the first time, I whispered a prayer for you. I wasn’t scared to be excited. It became a “real” reality in that moment. I now wait for your movements just so I know you’re actually there.

Even though I don’t know what “the plan” is now, or how I am going to finish all my school shortly after you are born, or where I am going to work or if I even will, I feel more and more at peace.

You see you are a precious gift, a blessing. You came on God’s time, not mine and that’s what makes you a miracle, a blessing. I am reminded that ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.’ Isaiah 55:9. 

In a few short days, your daddy and I will find out if you are a boy or a girl, and we can’t wait!! I am planning the nursery colors and I can’t stop buying things for you. In nearly 20 weeks I will get to hold you for the first time, and I can’t wait.

Thank you for blessing your daddy and I’s life. We love you, our precious gift, and we always will!!

Love,

Your Mom

P.S. Get ready for your second marathon on Sunday, it’s your daddy’s first!!”