One day I’ll see those two pink lines spread out in front of me and I’ll rejoice.
Ill jump for joy. Ill call out to heaven. Ill twirl and whirl.
Because you were so very wanted.
One day I’ll feel those little flutters turn into jabs underneath my ribs and I’ll run my hands over my belly poking you back and making a game of guessing which is a foot; an arm; an elbow.
One day I’ll fold your newborn clothes with love as I prepare your room, blankets, and treasures.
I’ll hum a song that’s made for you and picture your sweet face.
One day I’ll show your sister pictures of you dancing inside waiting to meet her and we’ll call you nicknames, rock her babies, and practice holding because you will be so tiny and she will be so big.
One day I’ll feel the pains of labour that tell me you are ready to meet me.
I’ll get those butterflies and rush through the house collecting our things.
I’ll be anxious and excited but oh so ready.
One day I’ll be your mother.