I am a mother to two ridiculously handsome boys. I am not currently pregnant…that I know of, and my husband and I aren’t planning on trying for another baby for at least a year. I sincerely have no desire to rush our next pregnancy. I mean, it would be lovely to not rent my body out to another human-being for a while, no matter how awesome of a Property Manager I may be. That being said, I would absolutely LOVE to have a daughter.
After sharing my testimony a few weeks ago (found here), I have been getting hit with waves of shame. Shame, you might ask? Yes…shame over my life prior to beginning my walk with Christ. I will catch a glimpse of a photo, stumble across a note, or hear an old song – suddenly, I am transported back to a time when I once lived a life based on doing what made me feel good, instead of what was right. Before I travel too far, I am interrupted by Noah running through the living room with a towel over his head or Emmett spitting up on my shirt. My train of thought then takes a turn down a different path, and I start thinking about my children and the kind of lives that they will lead. I think about whether Noah will want to play in the NFL or be a professional golfer, and if Emmett will decide to be President or a physician (I clearly have high aspirations for my children), and then I start to wonder about our fictitious daughter. Who will she be? How will her life story go?
Five minutes into this trail of thought, I start to feel a pit in my stomach. Mostly, because I remember who I used to be. I work over in my mind what I would like to tell her, in hopes that she takes my advice and avoids similar missteps – and because I seem to still suffer from pregnancy brain, I better write it down.