i CAN wait.

I was sitting on the back porch about a week ago just swinging and watching the hummingbirds with Mercy, and I started thinking about how fast this time is passing. She was sitting up in my lap like a big girl giggling at Joe (the dog), and startling each time a hummingbird buzzed past us.

It was one of those moments that you just want to freeze and tuck away in a box so you can revisit it in the future.

I think I've had about a thousand of those moments over the last nine months...

This is certainly one of them:

...the first moments I spent with Mercy, and the first time she wrapped her sweet little fingers around mine. I remember that moment like it was yesterday. I remember thinking to myself, "I can't wait to bring her home and watch her grow."

Here's another one:

It came... the day we got to bring her home!! Big moment for us, I cried like a baby that day and I remember thinking, "I can't wait to watch her grow at home with us and see her little personality come out."

Over the last nine months, I've proclaimed excitement over so many future milestones.

I've said how much I can't wait for her to get some teeth! Not a thought of how I'll miss her big gummy smile...

I've said how much I can't wait until she can sit up independently or take her first steps! I didn't realize that would mean saying goodbye to many of our sweet snuggles...

I've said how much I can't wait to hear her first words! Her silly squeals and our times of quietness together will soon be long gone...

I can't wait...

I can't wait....... I. Can't. Wait!!!

Well, friends... we're there. I have a 14lb 13oz, 2'3 nine month old with two teeth and a board on Pinterest planning her first birthday.

This child is growing too rapidly and has more personality than any of us know what to do with... and what I'm realizing is this:

It's. Too. Soon.

It's too fast and those sweet moments are flying by...

That first time she wrapped her fingers around mine, was I too busy thinking about what I couldn't wait for to appreciate that moment for the miracle that it was? Did I relish in her precious, tiny details enough when she was just a couple of pounds? Did I run my fingers across the silky soft preemie fuzz that covered her shoulders and back knowing I only had a few weeks to enjoy this sweet detail? Did I cherish each snuggle as much as I should have, knowing she would outgrow her desire to rest in my arms? Did I squeal with her enough, giggle with her enough, take in the sound of her soft breaths in my ear when she rests her cheek against mine? Have I treasured each smile and the newness of each moment with a grateful heart, as I know tomorrow will bring completely different newness?

Have I loved her enough right now?

...or have I been too caught up in what I can't wait to happen tomorrow to realize what a gift I have in her right this moment?

I'm working on changing my vocabulary. I must change it.

"I can't wait...?" That needs to stop. It is kidnapping the precious moments I spend with my daughter, it is stealing the momentous miracle that each of those moments is... When it slips out, I just have to apologize to my sweet girl and tell her how much this moment means to me.

"I love you right now. I love what you're doing right this second. I'm so proud of you. These moments are such a gift, YOU are such a blessing to me today and I absolutely can wait!"

Remember when I said I couldn't wait for her little personality to come out?

Well that happened... but I think we'll be calling it a BIG personality!

As much as I wish I could put moments like this one in boxes and revisit them, I can't. They come and they go, and our little ones grow up just a little too quickly.

And you know what? I think I can wait.

It happened...

Last night I told Chris I would be headed to bed before he finished brushing his teeth...

Then... it happened.

It happens every three or four weeks, always keeping me up until 2 or 3am... crying, smiling and feeling the love.

Yep. Last night it happened again... I started thinking about January.

This is the face we wake up to every morning. Seriously, it doesn't get better than this.

I imagine it'll start happening more and more often as we get closer to January (that's only three months away, y'all!)

I can't always identify what brings it on, but last night it was a quick glimpse at my sister's Instagram feed. I ended up looking through every picture since January, and reading all the sweet comments on the photos she has posted of Mercy. By the time I got to that very first photo, I was in too deep. It was too late to get out and I headed over to Facebook to look through my photos from January and read all the incredibly supportive and amazing comments. There were  some tears shed and I just couldn't stop smiling thinking of all of you who loved us through that stage of our lives and continue to love us now.

By then it was 2am and I found myself reading this note I had posted on Facebook on January 12, six days before Mercy's surprise arrival... I was writing about trusting God with my girl as she grew in my belly, and giving some information on the liver disease I had been diagnosed with and what that meant for Mercy.

My favorite part is when I explained that we would not wait past 36 weeks to deliver Mercy, and then I said, "And being the impatient types, we're very excited to meet our sweet Mercy sooner than expected!"

Sooner than expected meant six days!

While I thought I was writing about six weeks from that point, God was writing an incredibly beautiful story that I couldn't have written better myself.

Those memories are so sweet and I wouldn't trade them for anything... but I can't help but wonder... if I had known beforehand what was about to happen, would I have typed that sentence out so convincingly and sincerely?

No. I don't think so...

...and maybe that's why we don't get to know. How many awesome lessons, moments, conversations, smiles, tears... how much we would miss out on if we knew what was going to happen, if we were able to try to avoid situations in our lives that might just be hard... in many cases we would experience worry, fear and anxiety increasing as certain moments approached. We would completely miss the opportunity to grow as God works out our lives according to His perfect plan.

I know I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't experience what we went through in the NICU and each surprising and perfectly ordained minute of the day that led to Mercy's arrival. I know I wouldn't have enjoyed those last six days of my pregnancy as well as I did if I had been worrying constantly about her coming so super early. I would have cried, trembled in fear, foolishly begged God not to bring her so soon... Never once realizing that I would actually have been begging Him to keep so many beautiful gifts from us.

Oh, His plans for His children. Not always easy. Yes, so hard to wait blindly, so hard to trust when we have not even a glimpse of what will be. Always worth it. Always.

To the Jewish exiles in Babylon:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11

How beautiful this promise of comfort is to a group of hurting people. They would not understand what would come between the time this statement was declared to them through Jeremiah and the time they would be given hope, they would not be able to grasp the lessons, moments, tears they would experience before that hope would come... but they were told there was a plan, that was for sure... and that in itself is a truly amazing gift of HOPE.

It's the same gift of hope God offers His children today, He always knows His plan and His plan is always worth it.

...and going back to that passage, you know He's not only promising to bring the Israelites back to the promised land... He's promising them eternal hope. He's promising them Jesus.

His. Son.

His only son who would come to this earth, fully human and fully God, who would live a perfect life, die a death that would take away their sins, be raised from the dead, ascend into heaven where He sits today at the right hand of His Father pouring out an eternity of hope....

And that hope wasn't just for them either.

Friends, let's stop wishing we knew what the future will bring and let's enjoy the gifts leading up to tomorrow. Let's hold onto the hope of the sure plan that God has made and let's grasp tightly to the eternal hope of Jesus.

And on a different note...

My last blog post included a photo of Mercy and a caption contest! I received many 'entries' via Facebook, and one clearly stood out to me...

The first few days in the hospital one of the many things that captured our hearts about Mercy was that at least one arm was always raised! We often said it was as if she was praising God constantly, giving thanks for the work He was doing in her little life each and every minute.

So without further ado, Rebekah Rico (who, by the way, has a sweet Mercy of her own!) here's your special surprise from Mercy!! She designed it herself just for you! ...and you'll all be happy to know that since she started sitting up ALL THE TIME we've seen less and less preemie posturing going on... which is why her hands are just barely raised in this photo! :)