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Four times I’ve lifted brand new slippery babies up to my chest after bringing them into this big world. Four times I’ve felt the incomparable elation of newborn snuggles and coos and cries. 

Two times I’ve said goodbye to my miscarried babies whose only weeks of life were spent quietly and securely inside my wombsecrets the world was never blessed to know, but knew them by name and was never left the same. 

Dozens of birthdays I’ve watched dance by. It’s true what they say about it all going by in the blink of an eye.

And sometimes, I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake because I just know I’m living the dream, there’s no mistake.

Pancakes and messes and stopping to dance in the chaos. Bubbling joys, tears, and heartaches. Some days we do spontaneous things like jump in mud puddles or stay up too late just to gaze at the moon. It’s just that you’re only little once, and it’ll be over far too soon. 

You gift me with the joy of being childlike and free. You open up my eyes to the detailed world I used to see. The veins on a leaf, the web of a spider, dewdrops glistening on blades of grasstiny little treasures in everything we pass. 

So much wisdom from you I glean. I smile and marvel at how I’m living the dream. 

Laughter spills from the rooms down the hall. You’re getting taller, but still so small, and I snuggle you close as we read your favorite books. You hold your hand up to mine and I admire how big it looks.

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And sometimes, I wish I could wave a magic wand to pause the mundane momentsthe messes and beauty and all the sweet little things you say and do for me. I wish we could set time aside to just be. And to see the freckles across your cheeks and the sparkles in your eyes as you proudly reveal your rock or bug or newest surprise. 

I wish I could freeze these sacred moments to soak them in again.

Time rushes by, but sometimes, I slow down to breathe them in and remind myself of the dream I’m living in. 

The dream I had as I rocked my baby dolls to sleep—between climbing trees, twirling barefoot in the grass, and hunting for treasures I thought I’d always keep. So many adventures mapped out and things I thought I could never live without.

But the biggest dream I ever had, I get to wrap my heart around each day because it came true . . . it was you. 

You were my most longed-for adventure. I’m living the dream, and I’ve never been more sure. 

I’m here to help you write the story of your childhood—God gave you a voice to be heard.

So tell me your dreams and all the exciting things, I’m hanging on every word. 

I hope all these little moments merge into one full life, overflowing with meaningful, magical memories. And I hope you learn to love and breathe through all the sorrows and the victories.

One little foot in front of the other, one right choice after another. Getting up after falling down, nothing fancy or profound. Just steady, golden love that turns the world around. 

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I pray you make the world a better place because of today and these choices we make. You were made for a purpose—there’s no mistake. 

You’ll wake me up early to say hello to the morning. You’ll throw on your cape, and we’ll go exploring. We’ll collect pebbles and through water, we’ll wade. We’ll count all the ripples one little drop made. I’ll slow down to watch you, one drop in the stream. I don’t know about you, but I’m living the dream.

The places you’ll go, the person you’ll be . . . so many adventures, but now you’re right here with me. 

I’ve had many other dreams, but I’d never choose another. 

Because there’s just nothingabsolutely nothing—like being your mother. 

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

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So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

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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