Dear Wills,

Only a letter will do tonight.

This time last year, I was waiting to see a fetal medicine doctor. He himself called me on a Saturday to schedule the appointment. I knew that probably wasn’t a great sign.

Over that brutally long weekend, my world started changing. At first whispers of doubt, fear and anxiety. Your mama was petrified and devastated. But God 🙂 Slowly, a gentle whisper that I can now see as a flood of love, “marvelous”…

Was on the treadmill before dawn the next morning after our first bit of startling news but still awaiting the specialist. I couldn’t sleep. Had just read Psalm 139. The word “marvelous” wouldn’t leave my head or heart. “Your workmanship is marvelous” was echoing inside of me. I started saying it out loud. Showered. Got back in bed. Opened my bible. Bam. The word “marvelous” again in scripture. Psalm 9:1. Later that afternoon, two more times. Jeremiah 33:2-3 twice.

We drove down a stake. If Creator God said “marvelous”, then we could too. Praise You Jesus. I had no trouble believing YOU were marvelous, Wills, I just had trouble believing your predicted imminent death could somehow be marvelous. Or that this whiny, cynical, eye rolling nag could bear a story worthy of the word marvelous. Little did I know that the work God would do in my heart, marriage and testimony would be marvelous too.

(How is He so cool? What’s it like to do exactly what you were created for? What’s it like to be whole? Do you get to sit in His lap? Can you see us down here? Do you remember and treasure our hours of snuggling like I do? Do you think your sister is hilarious too? Who do you hang out with most? Are you a baby or in your prime? Are you laughing at all my short sighted questions?)

Got to the specialist appointment. Sounded like Top 20 countdown music playing in the background. Still scratching my head over that one… I am thinking spa music would be more appropriate. He would then tell us he believed you had Trisomy 18. We opted for an amnio. Your mama is a big fan of control, er, knowledge.

That exam room had the peace that passes understanding. I would tell you how good God is, but you know that better than I do now 🙂 I remember saying out loud “Thank You Jesus” all through the amnio. I didn’t care if my doctor thought I was nuts. Mama Bear was just doing her best to cover you and herself in Jesus’ sweet name. He has been my only portion, little man. I’m so happy you’re with Him.

9 days later, our fears confirmed. T18 diagnosis. Our treasured baby boy had received a fatal diagnosis. No words.

Slowly but surely…our faithful God started peeling back layers of this marvelous story. I’m still exhausted 🙂 but also grateful.

I haven’t had a dream about you yet. Of course I dream about things like being two macarons short for a big order. Nothing deep or dramatic. Heard once…if I had a dream about you, I may not want to wake up. I think that’s true. A grace to not dream about you. Although I would love to know what color your hair is 🙂

If you were mine to raise here for longer, I would encourage you to be yourself and to own your quirkiness. To never try to be the cool kid but rather the humble one who knows home is always safe. Crazy that you have taught me more than I could ever teach you. I feel like you would say to me now… Own your quirkiness and stay humble and know that Heaven is coming and it’s the ultimate safe place. To pursue a purse that can’t get holes and an inheritance that can’t be stolen. You know that fully. I can’t wait.

Pictures of you are bringing more smiles than tears lately. Tough but sweet.

I’m excited to relive these upcoming anniversaries of your amazing growth, beautiful birth, marvelous life, and eventual death.

Through smiling tears,
One very-proud-of-you Mama Bear

First pic together at home 🙂

Sunshine!

With your live birth certificate

Worlds. Best. Snuggler.