Thirty-One Weeks And A Little Perspective

I'm thirty-one weeks into this pregnancy and I'm not going to lie, I'm ready to be done. This week hasn't been an easy one. All of the normal discomfort of the third trimester has hit, but a couple of nights ago I woke up sick. And I didn't make it to the bathroom. Yep. 

I know that's not the picture of a glowing pregnant woman anyone wants to hear about, but it's my reality. I wish I was one of those women who felt strong and confident and loved every minute of pregnancy, but it's just not me. But I've learned that it's okay to not be that woman. We're all made so differently. Pregnancy is hard on my body. However, it reminds me that at my core, I'm really weak and that's actually a good thing. I can easily start to think that I'm in control of my life. I can set goals and work hard and often, though not always, things work out the way I hope they will. But pregnancy is a much needed humble reminder that I have no control whatsoever. I can't make my body not get sick. I can't make my body not gain weight (and oh how I've tried this time!) and I can't will myself to feel rested. I've cried out for help so many times the past few months. Ironically, while the pain and sickness haven't disappeared, I've felt God so close. Pregnancy brings me to my knees. When I can't bear to look at the woman I've become in the mirror, I have to remember where my worth comes from. When I feel like I can't go on one more day, I'm forced to remember that my strength comes from Christ alone. I don't enjoy pregnancy (like, at all), but it's so sanctifying. My pregnancy with Crosbi completely changed my life and my faith and this time around is no different. 

The day after my unfortunate not making it to the bathroom episode, I felt done. I needed a day to reset. Crosbi and I stayed home and had a lazy day of coloring and watching movies. She wanted to draw a picture for me and I was blown away by her art. 

It's the two of us with a heart in the middle. It was all I could do not to cry. The hard, sanctifying work of pregnancy brought me the greatest gift: my incredibly caring and loving baby girl. I looked at her picture and reminded myself that I would do all of it over again for her. The months of sickness, the pain and discomfort. She's worth it. So worth it. And soon her sister will be here and I'll say the same about her. The beauty of it all is that's how Jesus feels about me. He took the cross, the pain, the discomfort because he knew the other side. He saw me and said I was worth it. 

Perspective is an amazing thing. I don't enjoy this. I would be thrilled if it could be over tomorrow, but I'll hang on to my belief that this is as much about me understanding God's love for me as it is welcoming another life into our family. And today I'll be just a bit stronger.

xoxo