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It’s the middle of the night, but it’s the beginning of your life. And I get to be here for it . . . half-past three but no place I’d rather be.

I’m only half-awake and I know years from now I won’t fully remember the full extent of this exhaustion. But I think I’ll always remember your chubby, rosy cheeks in the light of the full moon shining through your window. I think I’ll remember the matchless feeling of your snugly warm body cradled in my arms, your cries quieting, and both our breathing matching the soft clock’s ticking.

It ticks right by and you’re two and a half. I’ll never remember all the little things you do to make me laugh. But I’ll remember I was with you, I’ll remember it was fun. I’ll remember how relieved I felt when the day was finally done.

I wake up, and you’re four or five.

Curious about all the thingsthe ground, the sky, the scary beehive. And we don’t have to travel far to make your heart content. A box of scraps is all you need for whatever dreams you want to invent.

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I dream of all the things you’ll be, then suddenly turn around and see you looking down at meclimbing high up in a tree. It’s pretty hard to set you free.

But here we are . . . your first day driving a shiny car. Please don’t go too fast or far—my heart’s still in the nursery humming Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

And now I’m looking at the man I dreamed you’d be when I saw that chubby face looking up at me.

I know you won’t remember all the yearsthe scraped-up knees, the secret fears. You may not remember the birthday cakes or going on a hunt for snakes. But I got to be there for all of this . . . so much to love, so much to miss.

All these treasures from years gone byit’ll happen in the blink of an eye.

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Late night chats under the moon with you. I reminisce back to the time you were brand new. We talk about dreams, and your future wife, and what you will do with this one, big, beautiful life.

I’ll wait and see, just thankful you share your world with me. Because it’s the beginning of your life, and I get to be here for it. Even if we’re up till half-past three, this is where I want to be. 

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

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Stephanie Kramm

I'm a wife and homeschool mama of four adventurous boys and two miscarried babies I look forward to holding in Heaven. I enjoy music, art, and rare quiet moments in nature with a book and some chai. My Master’s is in counseling and I am passionate about advocating for at-risk women and children around the globe. I’m a contributing writer for the facebook pages Snips & Snails & Warrior Tales and this mere breath.

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