I had a day last week filled with both excitement and dread. The dread ended up deflating itself once brought into the light of day, leaving me only with excitement. Through it all I was reminded that dread, in my experience, is the enemy of hope. (Retrospect is a beautiful thing, friends.)
In the wake of some unexpected (and thrilling) news about a writing opportunity, I felt bolstered in my willingness to handle disappointment, so I decided to give those two little lines a try. Would they show?
It’s amazing how something so sacred can be bound up in peeing on a stick – a true glimpse into the glamorous, ordinary work of motherhood.
I was dreading not being pregnant and being devastated once again. I’ve now known months upon months of bathroom crying – disappointed again, discouraged again.
(As much as I profess to be a roller coaster sort of park-goer, I confess that I’ve sometimes wanted to sneak on to the predictability of the ferris wheel – the safety of knowing what to expect, even if that knowing meant not ‘trying’ so as not to be disappointed. Yes, a defeatist’s escape – not a very noteworthy course – but a seemingly “safer” one when you’re weary from the wild ride of the unknown.)
I was also dreading the notion that if I was pregnant, I might not be able to gracefully handle the fear and anxiety trying to hitch a ride on the coattails of pregnancy in the wake of miscarriage. Would I be an emotional wreck? Would I be a paranoid lunatic? Would I be able to enjoy being pregnant?
They say losing a baby robs a woman of the “innocence” of pregnancy. And perhaps for once, they are actually right. The weight of potential loss is so real, so poignant.
And yet there is God – the One Who Mothers Me. This Mother-God, he holds me and comforts me and reassures me that I’m not in this alone, and that—always—his grace is cut to measure for exactly what I’ll need.
So I held a little tighter on the roller coaster grip and took the test and, yes, I was—I am—pregnant. Perfectly, wonderfully, delightfully pregnant. (A greater gift I’m not sure is possible.)
We now have a “made in the USA” baby to add to our family. How wonderful!
This journey may be different than my pregnancy with Levi or Judah or Scarlett, but I’m determined to enjoy this one, too.
I’ve dealt with the fear and the dread and the what-if’s (and commit to as much as I need to, should those villains rear their ugly heads again), and I carry our baby in hope and expectation. I mother her in faith. I grow him in grace.
And I feel confident that this is the day that the Lord has made. I will surely be glad and rejoice in it.
This baby is a gift, no matter how long we have together (may it be decades! multiple decades!) and I’m all too aware that “my” children don’t ultimately belong to me (or my husband). We’ve given them to God, and as many times as I personally have to, I’ll offer them back into his hands.
Because it’s there they’ll be safe.
You guys, we’re having a baby! Due in January 2015. This is wonderful, wonderful news and I’m just thrilled to share it with the world.
Pray for baby? Pray for us?