My boy, I grew you in my womb.

I prayed for you and ate healthy food for you.

I lost sleep from your elbow in my ribs and your weight on my bladder.

I worried about you.

I asked God to bring you here safely, and He did. He’s so good to us.

We saw you had so much hair on the ultrasound and just knew it was dark like Mommy’s. You know, I’m not just brunetteI’m Arabic. Of course, you’d be dark, too.

You entered our world with so much joy and looking just like the guy sitting next to me.

The man who covers himself with sunscreen on vacation. The one who watched me wear his clothes because nothing else fit in the 36th week. The guy who sat next to me in a mask and gown while they surgically removed you from my body.

You looked just like him!

Now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

To the older ladies who see us together at the store and say, “He must look just like his daddy?!”

They’re exactly right . . . and I hope you turn out to be just like him someday, too.

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Hope Coons

My name is Hope Coons, and I am a follower of Christ, wife to a college basketball coach, and mother to an awesome little boy. Our family has been called to love and serve well through Christian college athletics.