Sweet, Tiny, Perfect, Gorgeous, big-footed, and adorable Baby Gaines is...
A Sweet, Tiny, Perfect, Gorgeous, big-footed, and adorable GIRL!!!!!!
Y'all, she is the light of our lives. We've had her name picked since I was about thirteen weeks along, and as strange as it seems, as soon as we saw her on the monitor, I didn't even have to wait for confirmation that she was a girl. I thought to myself "There's our sweet Ella..." Her name already fits her so well, and though she might be a little bit terrifying to look at right now, we are in awe of how beautiful our lives have become. She is active, hilarious, and LOVES to sit with her legs crossed Indian style. Her profile is HYSTERICALLY identical to her daddy's, and it makes me smile every time I see it. If we're being honest, I was so relieved that she was a girl. I absolutely cannot picture myself the mother of a boy, not because I don't adore them (hello, have you SEEN my nephew?), but because my heart just felt unprepared. However, because of excessive warnings over the last 12 weeks, I had to accept that there was a 50/50 chance that Ella was actually and Ello, and did everything I could to prepare myself for it. I had all of my nursery decor picked, all of the names I liked lined up, referred to the baby as "maybe baby boy" and I sincerely tricked myself into believing that it was a boy for a few weeks. It was only the week before my sonogram that I thought to myself "There is absolutely no way that this baby is a boy." And plunged into all things girl. To hear the tech tell us "Oh wow, she's a girl, isn't she?" was absolutely music to my ears.
And then I started thinking through some things. And thought about how often I absolutely hated being a girl in junior high and high school. And how fragile my heart was. And how I cried myself to sleep at night over a boy who didn't know the weight of his words. And how I knew that my dad was crazy about me, but to fathom somebody ever rivaling that love seemed so daunting and impossible. I thought about how often I felt morbidly obese and unattractive compared to the girls I grew up around. And it made me so sad. I prayed that the Lord would prepare me now, even when she's still forming inside of me, for the road ahead. That the Lord would make her so blatantly aware of her worth, that her Daddy would show her what it means to be adored the same way mine did. That even if she's tall, lanky, and awkward like her Daddy, she recognizes that she's created in the perfect image of her sweet Jesus, and that who she is is enough. I know she'll have bad days, and that she'll face heartache, but I pray that she comes to me. I pray that she knows that her answers sit at the feet of her Jesus and the arms of her mom and daddy. It's not the most exciting moment of parenthood so far, but it's enough to make me hold her that much closer when she's tiny enough to know the world as one of innocence. It's enough to make me tell her everyday that she's beautiful. And smart. And Kind. And im-por-tant. She will be loved, and she will know it.
That's really all I have to say about the week. Most of my free time is spent searching the web for the perfect baby bedding. There are so many adorable bedding sets, but I feel like they all look like an adult's bed set made into baby. It's important to me that Ella feels like a little girl in her room, but it's also super important to me that she knows that she can BE a little girl in her room. I would rather line the walls with books than some of the "art" I've seen. I would rather she feel like building a block city in her bedroom than sitting prim and pretty in it. I haven't found a bed set that explores the best of both of those worlds yet, but I search ever forward.
As it stands, I'm having surgery tomorrow (which is why the blog is a day early.) I'm told that the surgery is simple, easy, and ideal to have at this time. My doctor went through the details, showed me where Ella is in my stomach (which confirmed that I have been feeling her move!) and showed me where the incisions will be. Fortunately, none of the incisions are close to her, so it makes it a little easier to go. He promised that the same people doing the anesthesia are the same people that will be there at my delivery. I know that he could tell that that I felt like the surgery was pointless (I've been feeling pretty good this week.) and made it a point to tell me what could happen if for some reason I tried to wait it out. Since I've already been attacked by the gallbladder, it is BOUND to happen again, and the attacks will become more recurrent. If that happens, my pancreas will become infected, and if THAT happens, food will stop digesting. I'll essentially be put on an IV drip to keep baby healthy, but I'll be in constant pain, starving, and depressed. I still believed he was trying to convince me to do the surgery by telling me the worst case scenario. And then he said "I know it's tough to go and I know it's hard to put any risk to her... but that should tell you that you're already a mama, because you don't even care what happens to you at this point." And then the tears fell. And he smiled, let me hear her heartbeat, and said "I am confident in your surgeon, and I'll see you here in 4 weeks for your ultrasound." and walked out of the room. Sometimes the hour long waits to see him are frustrating, but I've never questioned our decision to allow him to be responsible for Ella. He's a good man, and he sincerely cares about us... so it makes everything else a little more tolerable.
That's about it! Here's the bump, keep us all in your prayers through the surgery, recovery, and new diet plan... I feel like I'm going to need it!
And then I started thinking through some things. And thought about how often I absolutely hated being a girl in junior high and high school. And how fragile my heart was. And how I cried myself to sleep at night over a boy who didn't know the weight of his words. And how I knew that my dad was crazy about me, but to fathom somebody ever rivaling that love seemed so daunting and impossible. I thought about how often I felt morbidly obese and unattractive compared to the girls I grew up around. And it made me so sad. I prayed that the Lord would prepare me now, even when she's still forming inside of me, for the road ahead. That the Lord would make her so blatantly aware of her worth, that her Daddy would show her what it means to be adored the same way mine did. That even if she's tall, lanky, and awkward like her Daddy, she recognizes that she's created in the perfect image of her sweet Jesus, and that who she is is enough. I know she'll have bad days, and that she'll face heartache, but I pray that she comes to me. I pray that she knows that her answers sit at the feet of her Jesus and the arms of her mom and daddy. It's not the most exciting moment of parenthood so far, but it's enough to make me hold her that much closer when she's tiny enough to know the world as one of innocence. It's enough to make me tell her everyday that she's beautiful. And smart. And Kind. And im-por-tant. She will be loved, and she will know it.
That's really all I have to say about the week. Most of my free time is spent searching the web for the perfect baby bedding. There are so many adorable bedding sets, but I feel like they all look like an adult's bed set made into baby. It's important to me that Ella feels like a little girl in her room, but it's also super important to me that she knows that she can BE a little girl in her room. I would rather line the walls with books than some of the "art" I've seen. I would rather she feel like building a block city in her bedroom than sitting prim and pretty in it. I haven't found a bed set that explores the best of both of those worlds yet, but I search ever forward.
As it stands, I'm having surgery tomorrow (which is why the blog is a day early.) I'm told that the surgery is simple, easy, and ideal to have at this time. My doctor went through the details, showed me where Ella is in my stomach (which confirmed that I have been feeling her move!) and showed me where the incisions will be. Fortunately, none of the incisions are close to her, so it makes it a little easier to go. He promised that the same people doing the anesthesia are the same people that will be there at my delivery. I know that he could tell that that I felt like the surgery was pointless (I've been feeling pretty good this week.) and made it a point to tell me what could happen if for some reason I tried to wait it out. Since I've already been attacked by the gallbladder, it is BOUND to happen again, and the attacks will become more recurrent. If that happens, my pancreas will become infected, and if THAT happens, food will stop digesting. I'll essentially be put on an IV drip to keep baby healthy, but I'll be in constant pain, starving, and depressed. I still believed he was trying to convince me to do the surgery by telling me the worst case scenario. And then he said "I know it's tough to go and I know it's hard to put any risk to her... but that should tell you that you're already a mama, because you don't even care what happens to you at this point." And then the tears fell. And he smiled, let me hear her heartbeat, and said "I am confident in your surgeon, and I'll see you here in 4 weeks for your ultrasound." and walked out of the room. Sometimes the hour long waits to see him are frustrating, but I've never questioned our decision to allow him to be responsible for Ella. He's a good man, and he sincerely cares about us... so it makes everything else a little more tolerable.
That's about it! Here's the bump, keep us all in your prayers through the surgery, recovery, and new diet plan... I feel like I'm going to need it!
Prayers for you sweet girl. All will be well and you will feel better and healthy for Baby Ella's arrival.
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