Our last Christmas as a Party of Two

I'm not sure how to start but by saying I love you. I love the way you have changed me in the last 9 months and I love these last few weeks I have with you still inside me.  Even though your kicks have turned into jabs and your little tiny self is now taking all the space left in my abdomen, I love feeling you move and stretch and let your presence be known.  

It's such an exciting yet strange feeling as I sit in your nursery this morning.  I rock in our glider, looking into an empty crib and gazing at all the sweet places you'll grace soon enough.  It's Christmas morning, the last Christmas that your daddy and I will share just the two of us.  Next year this time you'll be walking and talking and we won't remember what a morning like this felt like.  

We are just shy of 38 weeks today.  There was a time when we feared that you would come too soon and now we ponder if you'll over stay your welcome.  You roll and hiccup.  You can open your eyes and hear our voices clearly.  Your lungs are strong and your heart beat is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.  Your daddy and I are ready.  You have been the best thing that has ever happened to us and you have spoiled us with your patience and perseverance.  You've been so kind to me during pregnancy and even though I am enjoying these last moments just you and I, I know that the love my heart is about to embrace as I hold you in my arms is something more than I can imagine.  

So as I sit here in a quiet room meant for a baby boy, as I wait for my baby boy to hold in my arms, I am reminded of another baby boy that came at this time many years ago.  This baby boy changed the world.  He came in the dark of night and not the way his mother planned.  He was small and innocent but he lived a life that saved us from our sins and we call him Savior.  

I pray that today while I feel you twist and turn that I also remember the baby boy that came to save me.  I pray that I enjoy my blessing in my son yet remember that my sweet baby boy is only mine for a moment and in this moment that I point my son to the Son.