I swing back and forth on the pendulum of emotion. I know that some of this is simply pregnancy emotion and that everyone does it. I remember staying home from work so that I could cry all day with Juliet, before all the twin business started. I was just completely overwhelmed by the thought of a baby in my life. What if I didn't want to go back to work? What if I was terrible at motherhood? What if my emotions never went back into control? What if there was something wrong? What if all the worrying caused something to be wrong? What if Christian died and she would never know her father? What if they had to put me into a medically induced coma just to gestate the baby, and then a c-section and then they pulled the plug and she would never know me? (I swear I wasn't watching soap operas all day, but it sure sounds like it.....).
I also remember thinking that I of all people did not have a right to think and feel those things. I wanted this baby this was a planned pregnancy. Here I was weeping over the life change this baby who I hoped and planned for and I still hoped that other women would be braver than I and carry babies to term who were not hoped and planned for. Hy-po-crite.
This time around I am still a mess, but a different kind. This pregnancy has been surprisingly less emotionally exhausting. Maybe it is because I am emotionally throwing up on anyone who read this and not keeping it all inside. (Thank you dear readers, have a wet wipe.) But physically I am drained, drained. And the sheer exhaustion has definately made me generally crabby. Oh and what is that, hello 20 week Braxton-Hicks.
But ultimately, over all I would say this pregnancy feels like the space between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. On Sunday someone mentioned that Saturday, the one between The Crucifixion and Resurrection, and I have been thinking about it a lot. We talked about it a little bit in small group yesterday. What was it like for them? The disciples, the crowds who had been following Jesus and believing that He was indeed the messiah. What was it like for his mom, who had believed so effortlessly when the angels came to tell her that she was with child....but hadn't had sex yet? What was it like for people who had dropped their careers and abandoned families to follow Jesus, only to watch Him die on a cross? How did they deal with the reality they were seeing when it conflicted with the hope and faith that had been growing in their hearts about who Jesus was. Who Jesus proved himself to be over and over again.
Sure, by Sunday it all made sense. That whole ridiculous business about being sold and crucified, really THAT was the piece that wasn't a parable? Really? Okay, he WAS the Messiah, He IS the messiah, regardless of the expectations He made it work. By Sunday there was a greater plan explained, an understanding that only comes from the complete picture. How I long for the complete picture.
But that Saturday must have been rough. Some people were probably angry, some disappointed, others frustrated. Maybe some wallowed in their doubt, or were already on their way home to beg for their jobs back and apologize to their family members, knowing they would hear "I told you so" for a long long time. I like to think that there were some who clung to the hope that if they just held out long enough Jesus would come back and make it all make sense somehow.
And Saturday is exactly what this pregnancy feels like, what every pregnancy will feel like (and Lord have mercy may this be the one, next tops) until there are two baby boys in my arms. Two tiny heart beats on the monitor. I go from anger, to doubt, always in confusion. I don't want to be disappointed, but know I will be. I am trying to have faith....and when push comes to shove I know they are coming.....it is only the when that I struggle with.
I feel so small, so selfish. I know that people have real problems. There are millions of women who would beg for ANY baby. That infertility is a heartbreaking path that the I will never have to travel down. At this point I am absolutely guaranteed two biological plus as many as we choose to adopt. I know how lucky I am. And yet, I want my boys. The ones I know are out there, are designated for me. And I want to be sure and rest in peace, the peace of Sunday because I know the fulfilment is coming. But right now, I have the desperate faith and hope of Saturday. Because it isn't Sunday yet, and I need to be okay with my Saturday faith.....because I believe God is okay with it.
Tuesday I have an ultra-sound. I am praying that anyway it is, it will be revealed to me on Tuesday. But you know what I want it took look like.....