My heart is so full.
I can’t be held responsible for the amount of words or pictures this post contains. Really it’s just the briefest snapshot of my cup running over.
I could cry all over again just thinking about yesterday. Last night as I soaked in a warm bath, I closed my eyes and tried to relive it all again. It was that wonderful.
In fact, besides the day Matt proposed and the day that we married…yesterday was the best day of my life. So far…until this little one – the star of yesterday’s celebration – makes an entrance into this world.
It’s only been a couple of weeks since we knew the date of our ultrasound. Over those couple of weeks, Mom & I planned and dreamed and prepared for a small & intimate gender reveal party for just our family. I couldn’t have pulled yesterday off with out Mom’s amazing help. Thank you, Mom!!!!
We cut out blue & pink flags for garlands and name tags. We blew up balloons and tied them to the chandelier, hung them from the ceiling and made a bouquet out of them. We filled mason jars with tea lights and small, white dishes with blue & pink candy.
And then we planned the food: blue & pink sangria, BBQ ribs, devilled eggs, grilled corn-on-the-cob, potato salad, cole slaw, macaroni salad, watermelon and angel food cake w/berries & fresh whipped cream for dessert.
Yes, a BBQ gender reveal party. I hoped, if it was a girl, that she would find it in her heart to forgive me someday.
Except, I need to clarify here…we didn’t call it a gender reveal party. Matt was pretty uncertain about the idea from the beginning. We both don’t do trends well; we’re “outside the box” kind of people, I guess. Neither one of us are big, “center of attention” kind of people either. But we wanted to celebrate this little one, especially on the day that we would know him/her a little bit better.
So, as Mom and I gathered our supplies from around the house (the only items we purchased besides food were the balloons, napkins and straws), we tried to think of what to call our little party.
On Thursday, Dad came home from a business trip and one of the first things he asked was, “So, when are we having The Unveiling?”
Mom & I looked at each other. That was it. That’s what we would call our party.
So, yesterday evening after our party decorations had been enjoyed and our delicious BBQ dinner had been eaten, we cleared the plates. The moment we had been anticipating all day had finally arrived. We gave a brown gift bag to Mom & Dad and one to Lydia.
I couldn’t bring myself to take pictures because I wanted to see their reactions with my own eyes and not through a lens. A memory to treasure.
Mom & Lydia opened the gift bags at the same time and pulled out a framed picture (the frame in the appropriate color) from our ultrasound that afternoon. In dry erase marker I had written our baby’s name in the corner of the glass.
There were shouts of joy, hugs and congratulations all around.
Yes, The Unveiling.
And what an unveiling it was! Laying in that darkened room, the sonographer probing my belly with her magic wand, watching our baby come alive on the screen…
What a miracle. Our little peanut had grown so much since 9 weeks! We saw all four chambers of the tiny beating heart. Hands and feet with all five little fingers and toes. Tiny legs curled up and then stretched out. A perfect little head. A tiny mouth opening and closing. Tiny fists and arms stretched up and then tucked back in.
For over 20 minutes we watched. The sonographer explained what we were seeing, but she really didn’t have to…we knew. This was our baby. Flipping and kicking and punching and posing.
And our baby was a boy.
My heart about stopped. Tears slipped down my cheeks as my eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching him. I couldn’t think about it too hard or I knew I would burst into sobs.
This was the baby we had prayed for, the boy I had wanted for years. A first born son. A big brother to any siblings following after. A first grandson for our parents. A first nephew for our brother & sister.
And we could use the boy name we had picked out…the one I had written down years before.
We left the ultrasound center with full hearts. We got into the car and, as we were driving away, I took out the long roll of pictures from our session. I took them in again.
I took him in again. Our son. Our little baby boy. Matt took my hand. And I began to cry.
We can’t contain our joy. Our gratefulness. It’s almost too much.