Thinking Thoughts (More than Projects, Some of My Heart)

I was just thinking that I should have worn earrings more when I was pregnant because I don't really get to wear them now --- J's little hands like to pull on them.  And then, just now, I had a moment where I really missed my belly.  My pregnant belly.  That's the first time that has happened, ever.  I mean I couldn't miss it before I had it, I felt fat when I did have it, and wow, I really felt fat as I was working to lose it.  But all of a sudden, I missed it.  It was so much more incredible than I gave it credit for.

I hope so deeply that my heart has been changed enough that I am able to enjoy a second pregnancy in ways I didn't enjoy my first.  

I was ecstatic to be having a baby. I loved, loved, loved that she was on the way, but I wanted her "yesterday."  I wanted her in my arms months before she was in my belly.  The 9 months seemed like decades to wait for her.  And unbeknownst to me, I had a prideful vanity issue, which robbed me of some major joy during my wait for her.  I took issue with the changes I underwent --- which surprised me.  I had always imagined that I would revel in being pregnant.  I always have thought pregnant women are gorgeous, and I have always been drawn to maternity and maternity-esque clothing.  But when it came to the real thing, I was displeased with how real it was.  In my visions of pregnancy, I only gained the smallest amount in the right-amount-of-weight-gain-range and it was placed perfectly in my adorable "basketball belly."  In real life I gained 41 pounds.  It seemed like 17 of those pounds were in my bra (making shopping traumatic.)  My belly definitely wasn't compared to a basketball.  And, for me, gaining 41 pounds meant it ended up all over the rest of my body as well, face included.

Instead of saying "Oh well" I cried.  And I missed out because of it.

I'd spend too much time looking at the photos of me and my baby belly --- searching for flaws and then searching for anything praiseworthy, trying to secure my worth despite my changing looks.  I spent so much time doing that that I never even realized that these weren't photos of me --- they were photos of me and my daughter.

I missed the whole point.
It wasn't about me.
This was a miracle straight from God.
He put life in me and I was missing the glory he so generously bestowed.




I had a c-section.

And I both revel in that and mourn that.

I have had so much taught to me through it.  

I have been stretched more than I ever knew I could be, or that I ever thought I needed to be, from it.
I continue to need God more and more every day as I face new frontiers of my life after it.

I have a million thoughts on it, from it, to it, for it --- Hopes.  Joys.  Fears.  Pains.  Limitations.  Liberations.
But what I want to share today is this: 

My favorite part of my labor and delivery was being wheeled down the hallway to the operating room. After 2 hours of fervent pushing, where I spent every last ounce of myself, it was then that I was finally out of my own way.  As we wheeled down the hall, with nurses and staff pressing on the sides of my bed, the photos of my pregnancy started to flash through my mind.  Photo after photo --- there I was with my ginormous belly, my outrageous bra size, my chubbier cheeks --- and none of that mattered. For the first time I wasn't the focus, and I was overwhelmed with joy.  Tears started streaming down my face.  I was happier than I had ever been.  Beside myself with exhustation and elation, I had begun deliriously chanting "I'm having a baby," "I'm having a baby," "I'm having a baby."  The meaning and my heart growing with each phrase.  I hardly knew I was talking.  I just knew I was rejoicing.  The miracle was just now dawning on me.  A nurse saw my tears and probably thought I was scared, so she asked "Are you alright?"  I could hardly get the words out as my throat tightened with emotion, "I'm.....so.....happy."

God healed me of a lot of "me" in that hallway.  Just in time to open my heart to the biggest burst of love that I have ever experienced in my life as I saw my daughter for the first time, being held up in the air over that blue curtain.  I will never be the same.

He
is
so
good.

I'm getting more and more excited for another baby.  I know it's going to be so much harder with two.  I know I am going to be so much busier, more tired, and possibly literally overwhelmed.  My house may never see a clear counter, floor, or tabletop again.  But I can't help but be excited as I am daily washed in His love and grace --- His love is filling me up so full I can't help but love more.  And as I daily fall more and more in love with my first-born, somehow I am falling in love with my second-born who hasn't even been formed yet.

Even still, with all this outstanding amazingness, I am attacked by fear.  It is my heart's desire to go on to have a vaginal birth after my c-section (VBAC.)  I am totally willing to go through anything God has for me and my future children ---  I'll willingly sign up now for a c-section if that's God's path for us, because I know he is GOOD and will uphold me through anything.  But I have such a deep desire for a VBAC with my next that I am nervous I will spend my next pregnancy being nervous, and obsessing over this issue.

I don't want to miss out on the gloriousness of the miracle of life inside me again.
I want to be present.
I want to be witness.
I want to be whole.
I want to walk faithfully hand in hand with the Lord and wait on him in each moment as I wait for the next member of our family.

We aren't there yet, we aren't quite yet adding that member --- and really it's up to God when He would like them to come along.  But could you join with me now and hold me up in prayer as the day approaches?
I want to have a foundation of prayer laid so I can walk boldly into the plans He has for me, trusting Him and listening to no stranger.
Would you be willing to stand along side me in prayer? It would mean so much to me.