Today, you posted a smiling picture of yourself- two actually, to compare your baby bump now with the way you looked twelve weeks ago.
I took a moment to look at that picture, to notice the sparkle in your eyes and hand on your growing belly, right over the little one being knit together inside of you. What a miracle.
And if I'm being completely honest, yes. I felt jealous. The kind of jealousy that makes me feel like I've been knocked in the stomach after playing Red Rover on the playground.
Because even though I'm working on finding the contentment in the moments now, even though I'm fighting hard to focus on my own path, I still think "When me, Lord?" in my confident moments, and "Ever me, Lord?" when I'm feeling less sure.
See, I don't know that I'll ever smile into a camera with my hand resting on a baby bump.
I know that God works incredible miracles every day, I know that I could live the next miracle. But I also know that God's ways aren't the same as my ways, and the miracle I'm waiting for may look much different than I expected.
Yes, there was pain in seeing that picture of you, friend- my heart aches just a little for the things that may never be in my life, for the plans that may never be, for the names that may never be spoken, for the family I may never have.
I hope you don't feel any guilt when I say that your announcement, that your celebration, hurt my heart a little. Pain is unavoidable, friend. It comes to us all. I know that you've lived your fair share of it, too, in ways that may be different than mine, but you know those feelings of disappointment and loss as well as I do.
So please, post those pictures to Facebook. Show the world your joy at bringing new life into your family, your excitement. Smile with a quiet, hopeful expectation.
My heart aches, right now, yes, but I'm aching because I know how immensely blessed you are. I'm sure you know that, too. Life is always good, always a gift.
And know that when I see those pictures, even though I hurt a little for myself and my circumstances right now, I treasure the fact that you've chosen to share a little bit of the little life inside of you... with me, your friend still waiting.