January 5, 2011

Making and Baking, Part 2

Making and Baking is a four-part series that I wrote last year when Jonathan and I first began considering adding to our family. Because I'm a sucker for surprises, like breaking pregnancy news at Christmas, I decided not to publish this series until now. For your reading enjoyment, a look into the lives of prospective parents as we juggle the beginning of toddlerhood and babymaking. To read Part 1, click here.

I choose to trust you.
That was the prayer resonating through my head as I waited through the days until I could take a pregnancy test. It was a prayer that wasn't easy, but a prayer that I knew needed to become my center during those uncertain days.

Often, I find that I'm not the wife, the mother, or the God-follower that I should be. I fail in so many areas and I don't pretend to be perfect. But with that said, I want to be better. I want to be the wife that respects and loves her husband the way he deserves. I want to be the mother that teaches her son what it means to live an honorable life. And I want to be the God-follower that can let go and trust that there is a plan in everything, no matter what that those little pink lines say at the end of the month.

When I was pregnant with Nathaniel, I wanted nothing more than to have my baby early and to hold him in my arms. The end of my pregnancy was extremely difficult; the kiddo was nearly ten pounds and as a relatively small person, the movements I so loved to feel during the second trimester became intensely uncomfortable and painful shortly after thirty weeks of carrying my child.

I begged. I pleaded. I bargained with God. As long as he was healthy, I would have done anything to have my child early. But in the end, he arrived exactly on his due date. And there was a greater plan in that than anything I could have hoped for.

Those first few days with Nathaniel were challenging as Jonathan and I adjusted to our new roles as parents. The second night in the hospital was filled with cold pizza, no sleep, and a crying baby as our new family of three struggled to find a place where we could co-exist outside of the womb. Likewise, the first few nights at home were equally difficult as we struggled to coordinate our schedules of hormonal breakdowns, sleeping in shifts, and hour-long nursing sessions.

Had the baby arrived a few days earlier, this would have taken place in the midst of our Christmas celebrations with family and friends. And as newlyweds, it would have overlapped our first Christmas as a married couple.

Could we have managed a newborn and Christmas? Yes, but the memory of a Christmas spent solely as husband and wife is something that Jonathan and I both treasure. It didn't seem so at the time, but that small blessing meant a great deal to us as we sat in a hospital room several days later, failing miserably to console our crying babe.

So as we wait through these days and hope to see two pink lines at the end of the month, I know that trusting is my only way through. It's not easy, especially for someone with a personality like mine whose vocabulary doesn't include the word patience, but I've learned from past experience that there is a reason and a purpose behind every circumstance. I can't see the bigger picture, but I can trust the one who does.

1 comment:

  1. I am thanking and praising God for a daughter whose eyes are fixed on Him while walking through life. My heart is full.

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