This has got to be the most frustrating week ever. Or two weeks. It began with much anticipation and excitement then staggered into a full-fledged mental and emotional battle.
I’ve had contractions for over a week now. I don’t consider them just Braxton hicks because some of them have been unbelievably painful – yea, like the real contractions. I’m assuming that’s how real ones feel like based on what I’ve read. The cs have been going on consistently for over 36 hrs now. But they have never been long enough for me to be admitted. Last night was probably the toughest. I had 6 consecutive super painful, not able to move or breathe, contractions in a row. But subsided after 45 minutes. Wtf.
I can totally understand why the books and baby websites warn about depression. I got why for post pardon but did not understand for pre. I do now. It is so lonely. It is so isolating. I can’t really socialize because literally I am just a distraction esp when cs come and go. It truly sucks. And the mental battle. O god. I have literally gotten dressed to head to the hospital three times now w utter disappointment.
I wanted so badly for this baby to be born early. J will be gone next week and my dad the following. My plans for oppie (dog) and maybe an infant baptism, etc etc etc. all crumbling.
Last night I cried the worst sort of crying – the pity cry. So sad and pathetic. And I quietly thought to myself “I know that god has his plans for our little baby, and that is why he is using perfect timing for her to come out. Then even more quietly whimpered “but god, I am your daughter too.”
There is no comfort for a pregnant woman than that of other fellow pregnant women/ recent mothers.
This morning I received an email from a friend who is now 14 days LATE! Omg. I prayed for her and was encouraged. I was reminded of gods sovereignty and got to see her willed joy through this time of waiting. I wrote her andshewrote back. Her words, even not knowing me too well, spoke directly to my heart.
I used to, up til recently, boast about such awesome timing from god for our relationship (j and mines). Midst long distance and deployment, we always got our magical way w timing for everything. But recently… Timing has sucked. I believe, thinking and reflecting on our spiritual journey, that we are growing up. Or rather, god is growing us. Before, we were like children given things seemingly easily. But now, god is teaching us something… Else. He is growing us, teaching us, building us up for…. For whatever he has next for us. I firmly believe this to be true because even though these last few weeks have been so shitty, his gentle yet strong hand is what is most evident. I can sense his guidance, pruning, and cultivating. Ican hear his still small voice of reassurance that his ways are not only higher and better, he is actively keeping us in those ways.
I knelt down and prayed. I worshiped him and sensed his presence. So sweet. And remembered that literally his presence is the best place to be. Period. It was so generous of him. I haven’t met with him like that in awhile.
I’m currently sitting in bed, still so uncomfortable. And I still def want her to be born right away. But I have peace. I guess this is what it feels like to depend and trust in him. And I am sincerely so grateful to him for his ways. Sincerely. And honestly would not want it any other way.
I am at 38 wks and 1 day now. I am also so so so anxious for this baby to come out. Wth. Why do people only tell horrifying stories of labor when pregnancy is…. Long and painful in its own right?! And it tests your patience, mental and emotional stability, and trust like nothing ever in ur life?!
The hubs couldn’t care less about politics or laws or whatever. But one day he said matter-of-factly, “I knew from the moment we found out we were pregnant…our daughter was human”. And it’s true. At even week 8, with tears of astonishment and amazement, joy and pride, we could not deny the self-beating thump thump thumping of our daughters heart. She was so real. Human.
I used to think I would potentially vote for “Women’s rights” I wasn’t pro-abortion but I was definitely not one to judge against anyone who had to make that kind of heart-wrenching and super private decision. But as I’m about to meet, face-to-face, my daughter, I can’t help be (honestly) kinda indignant about it.
From the moment that my baby was conceived, she began to grow. She began to grow her physical body. Instantaneously and continuously, her lil tiny body worked so f’en hard to become what she is today. And this process of growth and living will continue for the rest of her life. And this growing, living and being human began not at 3 months or at birth. It undoubtedly and scientifically began at conception.
It is so clear to me of the question of “when”. It was when she began.
If ever her life ended before now, it would’ve been the end of this growing and living. It would’ve been the end of her hopes and dreams. It would’ve been the end of her life. And if I had stopped this with my own decision, I don’t see how I would be able to see it in any other way. I would be stopping her life. A life. I would literally be killing her.
And that… Is just not cool. Not right. And definitely not what god intended.
And damn, my heart almost goes out for the women and men who have made that awful decision cus I cannot imagine and I do not envy the reckoning they must’ve faced and will face. But my heart goes out more for those whose lives were cut so so short. They didn’t even get a chance to live beyond their wombs.
Anyways… Just one of the many thoughts I’ve had during pregnancy.
Sleep has always been a unrequited love for me…until I got preggos. I’ve always fought to sleep before midnight, sometimes even later. Now…its 9:30, and my eyelids are falling over me.
But I really wanted to write a few things down since I’m at the home stretch – THREE MORE WEEKS!!! (well, due date is 5 weeks, but i’m really hoping she’ll be like her moms and want out before then)
I’ve finally slowed down. No more hosting big dinners (BOOO) or visitors. No more crazy work outs w. weights & lifts (developed tendonitis) or going hardcore on the elliptical. No more solo long drives to Raleigh just for fun. Just sleeping whenever I want; walking w. my doggie leisurely, and swimming when my body is totally rested and up for it. I also am saying no. I hate saying no to people, but I’m finding that it is necessary. I’m spending most of my time nesting and getting ready (nursery, washing baby clothes, organizing laundry room, preparing hospital bags for baby and me, making frozen foods, etc.). I’m also starting to plan for my parents visiting, js’ fam visiting, and what we’re going to do when the baby is here: where she’ll sleep, where to breastfeed, where to put all the breastfeeding & diaper stuff, etc. And getting all the baby essentials (pjs, blankets, pacifier, etc, oh my!) Three more weeks!!!
(It’s been a life/money-savior to finally be determined to be OK with not having everything. Pinterest and other ppl’s pictures have been a huge temptation for me to just buy everything. but really?? do i really really need this toy or that outfit or that appliance that my baby will only use for 3 months? no, prolly not. and if she does, we can always order it online.)
It’s really surreal to imagine holding and seeing my baby grow outside my womb. It’s been such a tiresome and alien-like journey. At the same time though, it’s also been a affirming, healing, and exciting one as well. It’s been special…something that only my baby and I have shared so intimately with. I feel as if I am so close with her already, when I don’t even know her at all. I’ll always remember these last 9 months with her so close to me.
Pregnancy has definitely been a reality-check. I’ve had to really accept that sometimes, certain things…even the things that matter so much, are not in my control. Like, at all. I’ve never been so stretched in my trusting & being obedient to who God really is. He is love; He is provider: He is God.
Side note: feet aches: wretched. Bloating: painful. Back ache: UGH & EEK! And I still wake up frightened because I, without missing a beat, always always end up on my back.
PS. I love my husband. Like so much. He has been the GF whose brought me chocolates & chips; He has been the man whose rubbed my feet and back. He’s also cooked, cleaned, and put his foot down to say “NO” when I couldn’t get myself to. I have been such the focus that I forget that he must be going through his own ordeal becoming a dad. But i guess that’s how he is. He just does things w out complaint or bitching. I love him more now than ever before. So grateful to be having this child w. my best friend, who’s going to be a freakin awesome dad.
I’ve hosted 5 friends since I’ve moved to NC 6 weeks ago. Awesome, super fun, and perpetually exhausting. So this morning after the last guest left the night before, I sat quietly with my Christmas songs tinkering away in the background, reflecting of Jesus’s birth. Relaxed and pleased.
I wanted to reflect on specifically the hope his birth brought.
Via Word On Fire‘s Father Barons sermons on this season of advent, the pre-text of Jesus birth is one that is barren and hopeless.
Jesus’s birth, however, did not alleviate the problem immediately. His birth did not birth an immediate solution or redemption. Jesus still had to grow up and fulfill gods promise to the people.So what exactly did the helpless little baby boy do for his people (and the future Christians) when he was born? He gave them, he gave us, hope.
For us post-Jesus’s birth, life, death, and resurrection, it is “easy” to say “oh yea, Jesus was born to save his people”. But to those who were there, was it in fact “easy” to believe that? I mean…I’m baking a little girl in my womb, and as amazing as she already is and as much hope I have for her to become awesome in the way future I can’t imagine fully comprehending its fruition.
But they did. The saints, the great examples, did believe in Jesus, the Savior. Paul speaks of faith as “the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.” These great examples lived by faith without “seeing” even to their death with hope. And for those who witnessed Jesus in his birth (btw how freakin awesome is that?) got to see him. They got to see the one who was promised to save his people. They got to see that God had not forgotten, but had been in fact working all along. They got to see Jesus. Who, in his birth, would be The Hope.
As Christmas is nearing, I reflect on hope and what it means to be faithful. I want to be like the great examples who had hope. Hope in the promises God has made to me; hope in the promises God has made to his children. Christian faith is not contingent upon the approval, popularity, or even the majority rule of the people. Faith is based on the hope of Christ, and we exercise it by keeping our eyes on Him who perfects our faith.
The hubs and I are entering a very new season of our lives.As we enter parenthood and adjust to his new career, I find myself with a great need to amp up my faith. Faith, to live like the promises God has given us is in fact already here and coming. To really live in belief and not by feelings or sometimes even thoughts.
I love the story of Christ’s birth. It is so celestial and human. Thank you Jesus for being born. I love you.
When I was 22, an older woman wisely told me that her happiest years were in her early 30s. The reasons sounded like blah blah blah cus all I could foolishly think was “… but 30 is so old”. I genuinely couldn’t, in my ignorant shortsightedness, imagine a life at 30… and a good one at that.
Well, in about an hour, I’ll be turning 30 and I have never been happier. She was right.
…I think these are some reasons why…
Though we’ve had to move like a gazillions and half annoying times, I have been able to not just maintain but deepen relationships. The older you get, the more you really realize how important people are. So you just do it; you use your time, energy, money, etc. on relationships. I’ve learned that drama is not just annoying, it’s a waste of time and energy. I forgive faster, say sorry without hesitance and move to build promptly.
I know what I like and no longer feel weird about the things I don’t. I was a hot headed teenager and a very lost twenty something, gunning dangerously into every nook and cranny of “adventure”. I was so desperate to find “me”. In the process, I did a ton of pretending, which required a lot of bullshit yes’s.I’ve learned the boundaries and limits of what is good and bad. Sometime in your late 20′s, you just let go and say “i just don’t care about what other ppl think/say” and live the life you love.
Priorities, loyalty, honesty, and commitment to work. My relationship with God, becoming the person I want and hope to be, health, building an awesome family, and fulfilling my dreams…I work on them each day without complaint or excuse…and it is so fulfilling.
I’m just honestly so blessed. I am married to my best friend. We are provided for and we are both super healthy. We have two sets of great familia and are seriously not short of awesome friends. AND AND AND we have a beautiful wonderful baby on the way.
I guess my birthday being so close to Christmas and to the birth of my child, I am extra happy about turning 30. There is such hope in a baby’s birth. My life has been all about restoration and hope redeemed. I am so happy to be turning 30 hugely because I have such hope. I’ve never felt like I’ve learned so much yet know that there is much much much more to learn as I do now. And I’m so glad.
The older woman was right, yet I want to add to it. When I was 17, I told myself I would live each year to the fullest. I want to commit to that again. I want to live fully each year. I am so happy and grateful to be where I am today. Yay for turning 30.
It’s almost 11 PM, which means it’s time I’m about to zonk out right next to J who’s already in full-on snoring mode. As I type onto the screen, it’s light is shinning on my belly – the belly with my baby in it. It’s almost 11, which also means it’s time for my baby girl to have a dance party. It’s incredible and just as surreal as the first time…her hard stomps palpitating thumps and her firm graze against her shell forming smooth yet distint wave-like motions…all protruding out my body. So freaky yet so cool.
Am I ready for her?
I feel myself scared. I’ve never been the scared type, always taking life blind-folded and with leaps. But it’s not just my life anymore. I feel so vulnerable and totally void of control. And man, am I learning the biggest lesson of trusting in God or what?
I also feel like my freedom is fleeting, prancing off into just a memory. I’m so (sometimes) dangerously free-spirited. My life will literally be wrapped around the care and love of another. Will I even have a life of my own?
I can’t imagine…the nursery being done; having enough resources to buy all her furniture, clothes…diapers; walking her and Opie; sleeping peacefully, sleeping enough, heck, sleeping at all; but mostly i just can’t imagine a life with her now.
Do most moms freak out like this before giving birth? Let me rephrase, do most GOOD or rather GREAT moms freak out like this? Cus I know…with God’s grace…or rather because of God’s grace that I will be a great mom. Out of all the uncertainty, I am certain of that…that I will be a great one. And I guess simply because…in spite of my selfishness, worry, and doubt…I know that this little girl is God’s, given to us to parent. So surely, there is a depth to me where I will indeed love…love love.
I’ve never been one of those girls who dreamed about getting married. Until necessary, I never daydreamed of the chapel or the white dress. Frankly, I think I cared much more about what food I’d serve/eat. It was kinda the same with a baby. I was never that girl, imaging myself basking in the pregnant glows, shopping for uber soft miniature clothing, or repeating ridiculous goo-goo ga-gas to a lil being. I don’t think I even ever found babies to be all that cute. To be very honest, I don’t think I could’ve imagined all my time and attention be…taken from me to someone else.
Pregnancy is a form of loving that I think nothing can compare to. (I’m sure I’ll say the same about motherhood later.) The entire body is literally being prepped and used solely for another.
And it was really difficult the first trimester…I was really concerned w. my unending questions of my limitations. Could I really unconditionally love this child? Am I going to continually treat this child well? What if I get sick of putting this child first? And the constant nausea, throwing up, and inability to move anywhere outside my bed and couch really made it hard to be that glowing mom.
Then we found out that the baby is a girl. I’m positive that I would’ve been just as happy with a boy. But I guess that certainty with the added SUPER bonus of being nausea free and gaining some energy…allowed me to be genuinely happy.
I still get concerned and pray for character building, healing from un-settled wounds to prepare myself to be a mommy. But I am happy.
Becoming a mom, I’ve reflected quite a bit on my life. My happiest moments, things I treasure the most, mistakes, values I’ve learned, and dreams to work on. I’ve traveled and journeyed quite a bit in terms of heart ache and total bliss, I am so so grateful to be able to share those stories with my daughter as she grows up.
It’s really incredible and almost audacious to me that God would place a little baby and allow it to grow in the hands of another human being. And trusting Him that He indeed has not made a mistake, I am not scared but just feel an immense amount of honor and gratitude to take on that job. This is what excites and makes me happy. Not the baby clothes and all of that (although they are super duper cute), but the relationship. It is such a gift to share with and give myself to another human being, my child.