Today's THE Day!

Today's the day, sweet girl! Tonight, at 8pm (if all goes as "planned"), we will check into labor and delivery to be induced. You're already proving to be a stubborn one, but oddly, I'm ok with it.

Knowing that the wait to see your face is almost over is one of the most insane feelings I've ever experienced. Being able to put a countdown on your birth is a whole new level of crazy!

I keep looking around the house, trying to clean, get things organized and perfectly ready for you to be welcomed home. I even did my hair! You've been with me constantly for nine months, so you know how rare that is! Be proud of your mama!

However, as I keep staring at the clock, counting down the hours until we head to the hospital, I feel so insanely unprepared. For nine months (heck, my whole life), I never ever feared or doubted my ability to be a mother. I never imagined myself as a perfect mother, but I always felt confident that mothering is something God has planned for me to do successfully (if that's a thing). Now though, as I'm mere hours away from holding you in my arms, I'm full of doubt... Not doubt that I won't be able to take care of you, feed you, or raise you. No.

This doubt is that I won't be able to do the most important thing a mother is supposed to do: lead you toward Heaven.

If I'm being honest here, I haven't done the best job of praying for you these last nine months. Heck, I have hardly even prayed in general. But from the moment you're born, I know that won't cut it anymore. This world is big and wild and so incredibly hard to navigate without eyes fixed toward Heaven. As your mother, I know it is my job to help you see the beauty of Heaven on a daily basis. It is my job to help you know what and Who you were created for. It is my job to cover you in prayer and beg God, daily, to consume you with His burning Love. And this is where I doubt myself... I doubt because my track record for doing these things for myself, my family, my spouse and the world in general isn't good. At all. In fact, I'm about in last place. Proven to forget and fail.

So, my dear Cana Marie, forgive me. Be patient with me. And always remind me, with every smile, cry, and dirty diaper, how lucky I am to be given such a big responsibility. Remind me that although I'm not that great at this holy thing, God gave you to me for a reason. And with eyes fixed upon Him, I can and will be able to shove the doubt aside and do my job as a mother. As your mother.

I promise I'll try until the day I die. Because that's what you deserve, and that's why I've been given the perfect and beautiful gift of you.

Happy birthday, Cana Marie Xavier (today or tomorrow).
I can't wait to see you change the world!