After I got married, I felt awkward talking about marriage because I was the girl who, quite literally, wrote the book about being single. I know what it's like to be the single girl who wants to be married, the one who listens politely to all the relationship talk but secretly wishes someone would just put her out of her misery so she can extract herself from the conversation.
And now that my farmer and I are expecting our first baby, I feel awkward talking about having a child, because I was the girl who prayed and waited for the Lord to give the gift of a baby and was so entirely over having to see pictures of babies and announcements on social media that I about found a wall to smack my head against.
So if you are single and not married, or married and wish you were pregnant or had kids at home, you can skip reading any farther. Don't put yourself through it. I used to, and it just caused undue angst. Don't do that to yourself.
But before you go, know this: The Lord has a good and perfect plan for your life. It may not feel like it. It may not seem like it. But He is -- patiently and methodically -- working all things for good, drawing you close to Him, causing you to trust in Him alone. And that's better than any husband or baby out there. You can bank on it.
In this house, we love babies. A day old. A month old. A week old. Pre-born. Born. We've never met a baby we didn't like. Simply put, we believe they have value and worth regardless of their size.
And we are so grateful to be surrounded by others who believe the same, which is, I'm convinced, why there is not a thing that our baby could still possibly need.
Well, except for prayers. Baby will always need those.
But thanks to our family and our friends and everyone in between, this child is SET.
My sisters-in-law and mother-in-law showered us with all things baby, books and buntings.
How did they know those are my favorite things? Am I that transparent?
Ok, those and pizza. But really, they nailed it.
Baby received everything from pacifiers (because it turns out some hospitals are opposed to those now)
to my mom's baby silverware set
to a handmade cow outfit from a kind woman at the dairy.
People, that hat! If they came in adult sizes, I would be wearing a pig version loud and proud.
The nursery even went from drab to fab with some delightful little woodland creatures.
Did I mention we have fox that lives on our road?
Well, we do.
So it's really all quite fitting.
My mother-in-law even crocheted a beautiful (and soft!) blanket for Baby's Baptism, because we are all about Jesus and His gift of life and salvation for little sinners, regardless of how snuggly and chubby they might be.
I love that that blanket will be in our family for decades to come.
Then my kind colleagues at work showed Baby the love in a serious way too.
Diapers. Wipes. Little hairbrushes. Swaddling blankets. (Have I mentioned how tiny everything is?)
And while it seems like we have diapers for days, I'm told they will last us -- well -- a week or so.
This is probably why they also set us up with a Diaper Genie. They KNEW.
Now would also be a good time to note that I changed a diaper on my nephew last year and put it on backward so . . . just go ahead and pray for Baby.
To top it off, my BFF Jeni and all dear, sweet seminary friends showered us via the mail, giving our Fed-Ex and mail man a true run for their money. They'd show up at the same time, tell each other hi, drop off packages and wave at each other when they drove out of the lane.
Who says the competition can't get along?
I'm just glad they do, because they dropped off adorableness like burp rags . . .
and extra onesies for any -- uhh -- I think we call them "blow-outs."
And strollers and blankets and outfits and towels and so much cuteness that I just want to sit in the baby's room for hours at a time and revel in how much love has been shown to this little tiny person no one's even met yet.
And there's one last thing: Everyone has contributed to Baby's library! From Arch books to Jimmy Fallon's Dada to vintage books to the wonderfully sweet classics, our little farm baby is going to be the most well-read little peanut this side of Davis Creek. So far, Baby's favorite has been the Gruffalo.
I'm pretty sure that has nothing to do with the bowl of ice cream I ate ten minutes beforehand, right?
We don't know much about being parents, but we do know this: This baby is loved: by us, our family, our friends, our colleagues and most of all by Jesus.
And there's no greater gift than that.