Well, the verdict is in! The baby whose little kicks I am now feeling is a boy. The third in a line of sons. The youngest brother. Bright was in the ultrasound room with us in Thailand, pushing a bulldozer, when he heard the news. He looked up and said, "I'm excited about having two brothers, but I wanted a sister." He was so cute about it:)So for the past few days all I've been thinking about are my three sons. My motherhood experience has become quite specific, and I feel both honored and awestruck at the life I have been called to live. I am not, after all, nor will I ever be, male. And yet my heart burns with love for them (males, that is). I love a man who's name I bear, who's dinner I cook, who's heart I, and I alone, fully know and appreciate. I love two boys who's ears I scrub, who's undies I wash, and who's little needs only I can anticipate. I carry a baby boy who depends completely on my body for his very life. I worship a man who walked the earth 2,000 years ago, who now sits at the right hand of a Father who breathed me into existence in the first place. My heart belongs to men.
And yet, I can't help but wonder what I will do while they are on their weekend hunting trips? Who will take me shopping when she is in high school, to keep me fashionable? Even now, in hotel rooms, we flip to car racing or sumo wrestling or construction site coverage on the discovery channel. Even now, the background sounds in my home are those of engines, and the after-dinner activity is tumbling with Dad on the rug. During all of these things, I sit on the couch and observe, while I fold laundry or read a book, bored by what catches their attention, fascinated by the things that drive them. They are male. I am not.
Today, we sat by a little Asian girl on the bus at the airport in Thailand, and I whispered to Bright, "That is what your sister might look like some day. Would you like to have a beautiful little sister like that?" He smiled and nodded his head. True, she won't have my hands, and she might not slip perfectly into my wedding dress, but who really wants to wear their mom's wedding dress anyway? I know in my heart that a Ruppette will join our little brood. Oh, but I am not waiting for that day. This day I am pregnant with a precious, treasured little boy. I feel blessed beyond explanation, and honored among women, and just downright happy to the core. Thank you, Father, for what you have given to me - to us. Thank you so much.
