Today, while shopping for winter clothes for Macy I came across a little toddler outfit that I desperately wanted to buy for my coming daughter. I may not know what she looks like yet, but I could almost picture her in it. As I sat and admired the outfit, I became excited at the thought of being able to dress her and shop for her. Excited to be able to go through the tubs of Macy’s hand-me-downs, pull out the clothes in her size, wash them, and put them away in her drawers. 

I still am excited, even as I type this.

But I do not yet know her, or what size she will wear. This seems to highlight the fact that I don’t even know when she is coming, or when I will know any of these things for that matter. 

How I long to know that face. To know her age. To have her near enough that I can dress her.

My dear daughter, your mom is waiting. And she can’t wait to do your laundry.

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