Dear Little Lambs

Dear Little Lambsons,

This is your mother. I miss you.

I don't remember how many of you there are, or who comes first and last, or how many brothers and sisters there are. But I know you are mine, and I miss you.

I wish I could have you all RIGHT NOW. I wish I could've had you months ago. People tell me I'm crazy for wanting you so badly, people say your dad and I haven't been married long enough. I don't care what people say. I want you.

I'm trying to convince myself that leaving you where you are and me where I am is the selfless thing for right now. It might not be safe, you see, for you to come and grow while we are learning and serving in Africa. I have to take some medications to protect myself from those nasty mosquitoes, and unfortunately, those meds would hurt you.

Also, I'm learning how to be a nurse right now. It is tough stuff. Tougher than I imagined. In my whole life I only ever wanted to be three things: a wife, a mom, and a nurse. There is a proper order of things in this world and I've done what I can to do things in wisdom and order. But it makes my heart ache. When I'm studying the different kinds of baby cries or how explaining something to a four year old is different than a fourteen year old, all I think about is you.

Hopefully, the waiting will make it all the better when you do come. Hopefully, you will always know how deeply you are loved and how anxious we were to meet you. Hopefully, this period of waiting is helping me become more of the mother you need.

Until then,
Mom