Written January 14th, 2012
Every morning I wake up pregnant is a new lesson in surrender. I have to balance my human fear with the peace that I can find in God's promise of faithfulness, but I am greatly aware that his faithfulness may not follow the plans I have. God is faithful. If our pregnancy goes to term, or if it ends tomorrow, He is still faithful.
I was so moved by something Michelle Duggar said at the memorial service her the baby she and her husband lost at 20 weeks. I don't have an exact quote, but it was along the line of how in awe she was that God's purpose had been fulfilled in this this little life in just the short time she was alive. I am trying to hold onto the truth that God's timing is perfect, and his plans give us life and hope. Each day I am pregnant is a gift, an opportunity to be thankful. I do not know the end of this story. I do not if this pregnancy will go to term, I have no guarantee that this baby will be in our arms. No guarantee. And no reason to believe that I deserve a happy ending. I am unworthy of such a gift, and am so aware of my own faults, failures and lack of faith.
Would I stand in awe of God's purpose fulfilled if this baby went to heaven before we meet him (or her)? Would I seek God's comfort? Perhaps, I am protecting my heart from this pain by expecting the worse, disconnecting from the hope this pregnancy brings?
I feel very conflicted as I have to make a choice each morning to step into God's plan. To allow total surrender to him. Not trying to hold onto to this experience in a way that holds me captive, but holding it with open hands to God's better purpose.
I don't "feel" pregnant today. I am tired, and aware that my body is dealing with something strange but I have not felt stretching like I have been used to, and not feeling nausea like I have before. Instead of having thankfulness be my initial reaction, I am instead fearful that it means things have ended and my baby's heart if not beating anymore. Of course, this is not the first time I have convinced myself that a symptom or lack of a symptom meant everything is over, only to be proved wrong at a scan showing a growing and perfect little bean, heart beating strong.
It's not fun to be so afraid. And it's not who I am purposed to be. Where is my joy? I don't want to put it on hold until August but how can I connect with it in this moment? Am I willing to risk investing fully in the hope and possibility of this pregnancy, the truth of God's goodness and power and the peace that passes all understanding? Am I prepared for the pain which would come from a loss at this late stage, after fully investing?
I don't know if I am willing to step into that unknown. And in the truth of my resistance and fear, I hear once again God's gentle call to full surrender.
This is a lesson I am learning every moment of every day. I hope to find more freedom to embrace the hope and joy as I choose to actively surrender to God.