Just a month ago, I began writing a post (that I didn't complete or publish) about how I don't feel like a mom yet. Not a mom in the sense of having children, taking care of them, and making sure they make it to the bus stop on time, but a deeper meaning to being a mom. But something has changed. Or rather developed. I have become a mom in the sense of having attained a sort of deep concern for my child. A sort of deep worry. A deep love. That if something were ever to happen to him/her, I don't know what I would do.
I think about him/her struggling with something in life, a sickness, a limitation. All I want to do is make it alright. To take away any physical or emotional hardship that would come upon my child's life and be able to avoid any hurt that I would feel in turn. Because I can only imagine the hurt a mother must feel, that I'll feel, when we have no choice but to watch what is happening and there may be little I can do. Sometimes even when it may even be for their own good.
Recently, I had many instances of being deeply saddened when reflecting upon so many mothers that have experienced miscarriage, or for someone like my sister, who delivered Elora at 26.5 weeks not knowing if she would see her first birthday. (She celebrates her first May 10th!) I realize that in no way can I fully empathize with these women, but I now carry a child that I can only hope and pray will live to see a day, a year, 12 years, 90 years in this world.
I love my baby in a way that I have never loved someone or something. And we haven't even met. But there is something remarkable and unique about having baby living inside me. Nothing will ever be mine, nothing will ever be Seth's, quite like this baby inside.
But even so, I am at rest if I should face the sorrow of something ever happening to this baby of mine. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalms 34:18). I consider this baby a gift; one that I have been entrusted with. And I can't hold my child with a clinched fist, either in life or out of life this life. So I hold this baby with open hands lifted high and pray I can just be the best mom I can be and rejoice in the assurance that "all things work together for good" (not neglecting the second part) "to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).
I think about him/her struggling with something in life, a sickness, a limitation. All I want to do is make it alright. To take away any physical or emotional hardship that would come upon my child's life and be able to avoid any hurt that I would feel in turn. Because I can only imagine the hurt a mother must feel, that I'll feel, when we have no choice but to watch what is happening and there may be little I can do. Sometimes even when it may even be for their own good.
Recently, I had many instances of being deeply saddened when reflecting upon so many mothers that have experienced miscarriage, or for someone like my sister, who delivered Elora at 26.5 weeks not knowing if she would see her first birthday. (She celebrates her first May 10th!) I realize that in no way can I fully empathize with these women, but I now carry a child that I can only hope and pray will live to see a day, a year, 12 years, 90 years in this world.
I love my baby in a way that I have never loved someone or something. And we haven't even met. But there is something remarkable and unique about having baby living inside me. Nothing will ever be mine, nothing will ever be Seth's, quite like this baby inside.
But even so, I am at rest if I should face the sorrow of something ever happening to this baby of mine. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalms 34:18). I consider this baby a gift; one that I have been entrusted with. And I can't hold my child with a clinched fist, either in life or out of life this life. So I hold this baby with open hands lifted high and pray I can just be the best mom I can be and rejoice in the assurance that "all things work together for good" (not neglecting the second part) "to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).
There is no greater joy than to carry a baby that you and your husband have made together. There is also no greater fear than thinking something could happen to that precious life. The only thing we have assurance of is God's love and his deep concern for every area of our life. He loves baby Pea so much!(and so do I!)
ReplyDeleteAuntie Sarah
I recognize that blue shirt! :) Can't wait to see the baby bump in three weeks!
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