Dear Eleven,
I got to see you for the first time this morning. You are nearly 13 weeks old, and are moving those new arms and legs like crazy! Even though I have been very sick with this pregnancy, it seems to make up for that in a big way to see how good you look, how strong. Since I have been sick, I told the ultrasound tech I had a hunch you were a girl, because your older brothers are boys and I do not remember being as ill with them. The tech said she had a hunch you were, too, but it was too early to say anything for certain.
So, if you are a girl, welcome! Though my arms are quite full, in a strange way they feel like they are missing one, one I never got to hug like my other five girls- little Micaiah who died at 21 weeks gestation. I did and do get to cuddle her twin sister, something for which I am daily thankful. A loss and a gain. But you- you would be another girl for me to love, and I will always jump at the chance to hold one more in my arms.
But, if you are a boy, you join five older brothers, two of whom are directly older than you. I am sure these two especially will have many fun adventures planned for the three of you. You could be the Three Musketeers- going about doing good, with your trusty canine Bella and your swift but sure swords. A boy will not lack for fun or for love here.
In short, you are wanted, Eleven. Don’t pay any attention to that rather large number. You are loved already and preparations are already being made for your entrance into the world.
Now, about your Daddy. God has given him a great analytical (that means he’s a problem solver, Eleven) mind, but times like these his brain gives him trouble. I won’t say that he is in denial about your existence, because he knows everything your Mama knows, but he has tried to avoid thinking about your arrival some, because the logistics are problems that to him seem pretty insurmountable. Where will we put you? I tell him that this is just an opportunity for God to come through BIG in the way He chooses to provide for us and for you.
But as I trace your little form on the ultrasound picture, I tell myself, of course there is room.
We will make room.

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