The I-get-tos

I wasn’t able to have you grow in my tummy and care for your every need before you even entered this world.

I wasn’t able to be the first, or the second or even the tenth, to hold you tightly in my arms and whisper to you that you’re loved and you’re safe and you’re beautiful.

I wasn’t able to make food for you, nourish you, bond with you in that amazing way.

I haven’t often known how to connect your puzzle pieces, how to comfort you, how to reach you, and so many nights I’ve just given up and closed your door so we can both cry ourselves to sleep alone.

I haven’t been able to help you study and ace a test, to cheer you on from the bleachers, to fill your childhood with birthday and Christmas memories you’ll cherish for a lifetime.

All the I-wasn’ts and I-haven’ts and I-can’ts weigh heavily on me, and pull me hard toward dark temptations of bitterness, envy, and despair.

I pray that more of those ugly moments be lit up with the truth of all our I-haves and I-cans and I-get-tos.

I get to share loving you with a bunch of beautiful people I’d never have known but through you.

I got to be the one to bring you to Jesus, to hold you as your Daddy baptized you and spoke the promises of Life over you.

I get to calm your body with my voice and a soft plastic sensory brush, watching peace and joy wash over your face as we count count count, brush brush brush, squeeze squeeze squeeze.

I get to be there, as long as God allows me, for all the birthdays and Christmases and therapy sessions and every win or loss this life hands you, letting you know you’re loved no matter what.