23 Weeks, 6 Days

Dear Baby Batts,

You sure are a stubborn little thing and I sure love you for that. I love your spunk. We had an appointment with a specialist in Anchorage today and, just like at our last ultrasound, you were content to be in a little ball, curled up by my pelvis.

You did not want to come out and play. You did not want to show us your hands so we could count precious fingers. You did not want to show off your little femurs. You did not want us to take a picture of your sweet little face.

Silly girl.

We were told news today. It isn't bad, but it isn't exactly what we'd hoped to hear. We'd hoped to hear everything was find and clear and "What were they worried about anyway?"

We didn't. Instead we heard, "This is what we think it is and there's this area of concern, too."

But we also heard, "She's okay." All your measurements, your organs, your bones... they were all okay. Praise the Lord.

And we also heard, "You're okay. Be careful, but you're okay." All my organs, my innards... they were all okay. Praise the Lord.

So I'm being careful. Like I have a giant pillow around my body, careful. Like I'm holding something as precious as glass in front of me all the time and have to do all I can to protect it. You, Ruthie, you are more precious than any glass and I will do all I can to protect you now and after you come.

I can't wait to see how your personality develops, how you like to sleep at night, how you hold your fists. I love that these glimpses into your cozy space show us a little bit of what you're like.

But even more so, I love that the Lord knows you fully. He does not need ultrasound technology to see you. He sees you now. He sees your future.

I'll rest in that.

Love,
Mama