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When you were sleeping soundly in that hospital room bassinet, both of us just beginning to recover from your birth, yet I wanted nothing more than to snuggle your fresh, tiny body in my exhausted but elated arms,

I reach for you.

When you were first learning to crawl, your chubby arms and legs eventually mastering how to work together for a common purpose, yet certainly not ready to tackle that staircase,

I reach for you.

When you were shrieking in your crib, the pain of that tooth that was taking its sweet, sweet time to break through your tender gums becoming too much to bear, 

I reach for you.

When you were taking those first, shaky steps, warily loosening your grip of my hands to test your balance, your eyes widening as you began to realize your incredible accomplishment,

I reach for you.

When, all too soon, those steps became bounds, your little legs racing across our hardwood floors for our first game of tag,

I reach for you.

When you fell off that play set, sprinting toward me with tears streaming down your cheeks, clutching your aching arm and shouting my name,

I reach for you.

When you waltz into that classroom without looking back, my heart caught in the tension of wanting you to want me while being completely entranced by your fearlessness,

I reach for you.

When you don’t make the team, your cheeks red with embarrassment, the sting of rejection still fresh,

I reach for you.

When you trust someone with your heart, and instead of cherishing it, they crumble it into a million tiny pieces, causing you to feel wholly broken and unlovable, 

I reach for you.

When you walk across that stage in your cap and gown, a diploma under your arm, that smile of sweet relief lighting up your face,

I reach for you.

When you stand before your family and friends vowing your life to another, shuffling about nervously, giggling as you hold back the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes,

I reach for you.

When you rush out of that room to tell us it’s time, hurrying back so that you don’t miss a moment of the arrival of your very own babe, that little piece of you who will forever remind me of the you you once were,

I reach for you.

Through the highs and lows, in every season, no matter what,

I reach for you.

I always have, and I always will.

Photo via Rachel Sanders

This article originally appeared on Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward

 

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So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Krista Ward

Krista is a former teacher turned stay-at-home mom to three insanely precious little boys, Hudson, Jones, and Royce. She is married to her best friend and high school sweetheart, Randy, who is the peanut butter to her chocolate. Krista hopes to be a light and joy to the world, especially other mamas feeling stuck in the daily grind, through her writing.

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