Tender Mercies

I know that Heavenly Father loves me. Because He loves me, He sent his little boy to teach me how to come back to him, and live with him forever. Along the way, he answers my prayers, and cries with me, and gives me people to love. He has made sure that the people I love will never really be taken away. This is possible because His little boy lived, and died, and then came to life again. These are some of the things that your mommy feels like she knows for absolutely sure; and I need this knowledge to help me do tough things. Sometimes, however, I am given much more than what I need: something the scriptures call "Tender Mercies". While you have been growing, Heavenly Father has given us lots of these little gifts to remind us that he knows you and me VERY personally, and that He loves us.

One night I had a dream about you. You were born in the hospital and you looked at me with beautiful brown eyes. A friend came into the room and took pretty pictures of you while you were still alive, to help Mommy remember what you looked like. When I woke up, I was a little bit sad because I knew there was a possibility that you might die before being born. My greatest hope in the whole world is that you will be born alive; that I will get to hold you while you are still in the body I made for you. In a way, I want to make sure you're real, and that you belong to our family. Only one day after my dream, Mommy's photographer friend called and related a similar experience and asked to take your picture in the hospital. She said that, in her dream, it didn't matter if you were alive because your spirit was sooo strong in the room. She could feel you there. In the most tender and merciful way I can think of, Heavenly Father explained to me, through this special person, that it is not necessary for you to take a breath in order to belong with me. You are a very real part of our family already, and your body is acceptable for your mortal experience.

Early this summer, Mommy had a picture frame just sitting around the living room. I found several pretty pictures to go inside, but they didn't fit, or they were too expensive. One day, I went to a craft store to get some paint, and I stopped in the poster section on my way out. In the back of the pile, there was a dusty tattered poster marked down to twelve dollars. There was no name or artist written on the back, not even a signature. It was one of the most beautiful pictures Mommy had ever seen...and it fit her frame.

After hanging this picture up, a dinner guest noticed it and knew the painting well. The artist was the Austrian Gustav Klimt, and he lived in the late 1800's. He titled his painting, "The Tree of Life". I love this picture because it is how I see you; serene, elegant, and more of a young woman than a little baby. You are standing on one side of this life, while your Daddy and I are hugging eachother on the other side. We look sad, but you are not- you must better understand what is happening and why. I hope that you will look in our direction every so often while you are busy working on your side of the tree, and remember that we love you very much.

These are just a couple of the tender mercies that have been shown to our family. There are countless others. There was the moment Mommy found your name. There was the time I was told your diagnosis, and a friend who could understand, was close to give me a hug. There was the night your sister came to me in the middle of the night when I was sad, and slept beside us. There were those special sermons given in April, that helped to prepare me and daddy for you to come. None of these gifts were necessary for our happiness, but they continue to be wonderful reminders that we are carefully watched over and loved.

Mommy Hears a Miah

Several times, I have read the Dr. Suess story, Horton Hears a Who, to you and Sonya. The story is all about an elephant who caries around a little fluffy clover, believing that people or "Whos" live on it. Horton, the elephant, carries around the fluffy full of Whos, and keeps them safe, while everyone looks at him like he's crazy. Horton defends his fluffy with unwavering faithfulness, chanting "a person's a person, no matter how small!" At the end of the story, the Whos "whooped up a racket" and "their voices were heard! They rang out clear and clean. And the elephant smiled: Do you see what I mean?...". Finally everyone could hear the sweet voice Horton heard the whole time. I can't wait until others get the opportunity to meet you, and see you the way I do.

Mommy has learned a ton about your personality simply based on how you move around in my tummy. See, your sister was very spunky and territorial. She would kick anyone who touched my belly- daring to invade her space. In ultrasounds, she would do flips, make fish faces, and sleep with her hands behind her head. It was hilarious because, when she was born, nothing changed- She tore off her hat with determination, blew a couple spit bubbles, and tucked her fists behind the neck and slept. Her personality was well established in the womb.

You are already much different from your sister. When Daddy tries to feel you kicking in my tummy, you move your body to make room for his hand- like you were saying "OH, I'm so sorry to have gotten in your way". When we see you in the ultrasounds, you seem perfectly content and serene with your circumstances- even when the doctors try to jostle you around to get specific pictures. In fact, once they put a needle right in Mommy's tummy and you moved to the far side of the uterus...seeming to make sure the new foreign object was comfortable in your home. I imagine that you are a peacemaker- slow to anger and non-confrontational.

That's not to say you are not PURE WILDE. The Wildes are impossible to ignore- they are bold, loud, and overly confident (often when they lack the credentials that normally accompany such confidence). They defy anyone who claims they Can't do something, regardless of the seeming impossibility of the task. YOU, my dear, are Wilde through and through. We go to the doctor about every two weeks to check your heart, and make sure you're still growing. Every time we go, the doctor reminds us about how sick you are, and how your mom is being silly for carrying you. You don't like those talks AT ALL; you lay your serenity aside, and make a point of defying the poor doctor. Like a true Wilde, you prove yourself with unnecessary confidence...maybe even show off a bit (you got that from Daddy). The doctor says your heartbeat is perfect but that isn't enough for you; you twist in bouncy somersaults- wiggling every which way...making it difficult to count the heartbeats. Last time, you even hiccuped twice just to make the point.

Your little personality makes Mommy laugh! I hope you and I can continue to frustrate doctors and defy some of those icky statistics with ridiculous boldness!