In Thanksgiving for Motherhood

Little Miss Pink we dubbed her, although the pinkest part was her clothing. The rest was all peaches and cream. And beauty that arrested this mother's heart, as first born marvels do. I was speechless, aching with awe. So this was mother-love. Who could have known?

Dark haired, red all over, entirely different, but overwhelmingly lovely. Pouting lips and squeals. She won my heart all over again with her perfection. "How is that possible," this still somewhat new mother wondered. Thoroughly won, my heart was hers. Love was multiplied, not divided.

Red-headed, delightful, and a joy to my heart. When we traveled people would ask how I got such a pleasant baby, so happy all the time. A deep joy she brought to my heart. I was learning more about enjoying every moment and she made it easy to learn.

Robust and gentle, quiet with a husky cry, soon to have blond curls and lopsided dimples. A man-child. A boy who would someday boast of his first pair of pocket pants. My pride and joy. This mother's heart could barely contain such pleasure. I held him close, knowing...

A girl was given me of sweet and pleasant disposition. Her ivory skin, peachy hair, and blue eyes charmed me. She was our gift. We understood more and more clearly. Treasure was within, and her gentle nature needed careful tending. Such beauty, delicate and fine.

Brunette, round, and dimpled. Adorable in every way. This daughter with gray blue eyes and dark locks would be my Follette girl -- the babe I had imagined as a sister all those years ago. Now she was mine to snuggle and cuddle and love beyond imaginable measure. God knew.

She arrived amidst songs of praise and prayer to the Father of Life. Gratefulness flooded my soul for her precious life. She was mine to discover. He entrusted her to me, this babe with twinkling eyes and precocious smile. A Princess girl, mine to love, mine to share. His gift.

An eternal soul. God granted me partnership in creating such a wondrous beauty. She brought to me an awareness of the bigness of this plan -- He was delighted with her; she was His desire. And I was His plan for her and how completely I loved her. I was in awe once again.

A final blessing. Unexpected in many ways. Cherished from the first, protected by God, this second man-child allowed me to be poured out in even greater measure. He is the son of my old age, I say. Small of stature but a profound revelation of God's power. And His great love.

Thank you, God, for all you've given so generously to me, and for allowing me to experience the gift of motherhood.

To be a mother, this is the rarest gift in the world. Forbid, that we just have children and that is all - when everyday offers the unwrapping of wondrous, holy grace. Ann Voskamp