Twenty-Four Weeks. Day 170 in the quest to meet our little miracle George

Do you remember the years that seemed to go on forever when you were younger?  And the days that would never end, the minutes that were wished away and the time spent saying ‘i am bored’

What happened to those days?  The ones where climbing a tree could take away the boredom when your mother told you that if you were bored you could always clean your room.

I miss that.  The carefree days where anything could be solved by climbing a tree or cleaning your room.

My year is flying by, but i must admit i am the one wishing it away.

Each night i feel scared, each time i get worried, i wish upon my shooting star that the next few months would fly by, that i will have my little miracle safe in my arms.  But then when i think of all that has to be done, all that is going to change – i freak out and begin to wonder if i can do this, if i have enough time to prepare for my next big adventure.

I dont want to be anywhere else, but sometimes i wonder why it cant be simple anymore, why our emotions cant be solved by climbing a tree, why, while a hug can make us feel better, it never really solves anything anymore, not like it did back when we were young.

And i have been wondering of late, if it only gets more complicated from here? Not just for me, i mean in general – does the time keep getting faster as we get older, do the simplest things become even more complicated, and will i begin wishing the time away even more, look back and wished i had stopped for a minute just to smell the roses?

I have hope in my heart that i will stop, that i will smell the roses, that i will have the ability in my heart to take it day by day.  And i have hope in my heart that ten years from now i wont be looking back, regretting the days i wished away, i will be looking back on every miraculous moment i have been given, every blessing that i have been handed and remember the enjoyment i experienced…

Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow them. Louisa May Alcott

Twenty-Three Weeks.  Five Days. Day 168 in the quest to meet our little miracle George

Five weeks ago i began to feel my little miracle kick me, it was and still is the most amazing feeling,one which i pray i never forget.

As the weeks have progressed as have the strength of the kicking and each time i feel that little nudge from inside i still get little goose pimples all over…

The only thing i have been wishing for just as much as the health of my baby, is for my dear husband to feel what i feel, to get that amazing feeling of reassurance and excitement each time our little george kicks me.

Last night, as i lay in bed my husband asked the same question he asks every night before we go to sleep…

“Is george kicking?”

And last night george was kicking…

We both waited until i felt a good one and i put his hand on my belly and little george kicked his dad for the first time.

My dear husband said “Oh…”

I looked over expecting overwhelming excitement just like i had felt the first time… But all i saw was a blank expression.

“Did you feel it?”

“Yeah, but…

“But what?

“…it just felt like your tummy moving…”

Even now, i have a smile on my face thinking of my dear husbands puzzled expression.

I think he thought he would feel a foot or a punch or even maybe he thought georges hand would come out and shake his… Whatever the case my poor husband was ever so disappointed that all he could feel after weeks and weeks of anticipation was my tummy move just a little!  My husband even said that it felt like gas… Nice one husband, but to tell you the truth, i still sometimes myself get confused whether i have a baby moving or a bowel movement!

Needless to say i still have hope and faith knowing that the movement will only get stronger and soon my wonderful husband will be able to feel the little kicks just as he may have originally expected!

Hope is the dream of a soul awake. French Proverb

Twenty-Three Weeks.  Four Days. Day 167 in the quest to meet our little miracle George

On my way home tonight through the darkness as i looked to the sky i caught a glimpse of something i havent seen in such a long time….

It was a shooting star….

All alone in the silence as i drove along i wispered something i remember my mother once whispered to me,

“Star light star bright first star i see tonight, i wish i may i wish i might, i wish upon the first star i see tonight…”

I know it was a shooting star, but it made me think of the times i spent looking to the evening skies with my family when i was little…

It is moments like those i wish i could capture, i wish i could turn into an image or something more than words, that brings tears to the viewers eyes from the pure emotion, wonderful moments in your memories that you just wish you could share so that people understood just what they meant.

I dont know when i will next see another shooting star or if i will even remember just how the shooting star i saw tonight feel from the sky.  Just as i dont know why shooting stars remind me of the little poem about the first star of the evening, but i will always remember the way shooting stars make me feel, and the many wishes i have wished upon them….

Shoot for the moon and if you miss you will still be among the stars. Les Brown

Twenty-Three Weeks.  Three Days. Day 166 in the quest to meet our little miracle George

I cried again today.

Real tears falling down my cheeks, i couldnt help it, i couldnt stop them, i didnt want to stop them.

And all i have inside of me tonight are five little words that will never leave my mind until the day i die.

For this child i prayed. 1 Samuel 1:27

Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing. Camille Pissarro