thinking about my daughter

When I was a not-so-little girl, my grandest dreams were of the day I would become a mom.  I spent hours imagining stories of the things-that-would-be.  I knew for sure that my first two babies would be girls, and I picked out their names, imagined their arrival, the parties we would have, and the times we'd spend together. 

After waiting long enough to grow up, find the man of my dreams, work off my college loans and put in my teaching time for scholarships, the time drew near for us to start a family. 

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Proverbs 16:9

My first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage.  I grieved the entire year it took for the second to finally happen.  Then I was ecstatic.  That baby was a boy, and he is more dear to my heart every day.

I knew after that I would have all boys.  After all, I'd once dreamed of a sister but had 2 brothers (and love them both!)  When our second child was born and we discovered we had a girl, life felt complete.

Her closet was soon filled with pink, lace, and dresses.  Her first doll was carefully chosen.  She ignored the frills and doll, and played with her brother's dinosaurs.  I smarted a bit inside.  As she grew, I learned to take note of how God had molded her and tried not to push her into shapes that didn't fit.

Recently Rachel and I had a mom and daughter night.  She's still growing like a weed, so we had to find new clothes.  She picked out pink, telling me it was her favorite color.  She chose earrings that were shaped like doughnuts, french fries, ice cream cones, and horses.  I enjoyed her giggles and nonstop chatter. 

Rachel is a tapestry of profound thoughts and childish ways.  She hoards stuffed animals, starts books she'll never finish, writes illegibly, and is tender with her little brother.  She melts on the floor in frustration and smiles her way into my heart.

I could never have imagined a little girl better than this.