Ever since I found out that there is a tiny human growing inside of me, it feels like nothing has been the same. And I'm not just talking about my waist size. My hormones alone have been...well, extreme {to say the least}. Add that to pumping an extra 50% more blood{which means shortness of breath, fatigue and tripling my water intake} plus cravings/ food aversions and you've got the recipe for chaos. Or at least, in my brain. That's another thing: I forget things constantly. So much so that I keep a running list of things people say, what I'm supposed to do, etc. This leaves my already ADD functioning brain majorly crippled. It's not a bad thing. It's just a different season. In fact, this baby{Babe-o, as I fondly call him/her} is a blessing. But it's one of those blessings that sometimes feels like a burden. Call me crazy if you want. I'll probably get some kind of reprimand for being so honest. But someone very wise recently reminded me that honesty makes you more approachable, and that's what I'm aiming for here, folks. I don't want to paint some façade of a perfect life. I want to be raw. My goal is {as always} to make you feel
The word burden has developed a negative connotation. It's sad, really. I feel sorry for burden. Poor burden. People hear it and instantly think you mean you're dissatisfied with what you've got. But the noun burden literally means "that which is carried". No joke. It's just something you carry. I could say that my purse is a burden. Or my hair is a burden('cause, you know...I carry it on my head...and stuff). But that doesn't mean I'm saying the burden is unwanted.
I realize you probably wonder where this is going. I'm getting there, promise.
So if this Babe-o feels like a burden, it's because it is. Physically, my body changing drastically. My hips are expanding, and my tummy looks like a semi-inflated beach ball. My clothes aren't quite as loose as they used to be, and I fall asleep a lot sooner than my standard bedtime. My mood shifts periodically{sometimes I wonder if Relient K wasn't totally off about their point that emotional girls should all wear mood rings. Except, I think only preggos should. Might make things a little easier on the rest of the world...}. And my desire for food is ongoing. BUT I'm thankful for it all: the growth, the discomfort, the overwhelming truth that this person inside of me has to get out somehow{WHAT?! I still haven't come to grips with that one. Mr. Stork, you're coming, right? We'll do this together, yeah? Great :) } I want this burden. I want this thing that I am physically carrying inside of my body. Not because it's such a cool experience(don't get me wrong...it is amazing!) but because God has given it to me. So everything that happens is a blessing.
When I first found out about the baby{at around 6 weeks} I was blatantly attacked with fear. What if the baby doesn't get the nutrients it needs? What if my body can't handle this? Or worse: what if this baby doesn't make it? What will I do?
That is Satan's Game. He wanted me to partner with the lie that God is not in control.
When I was about 9 weeks along, some of my lab work came back abnormal. I listened as the nurse on the phone calmly explained that my child could have the disease, and that my husband needed to be tested as well. She murmured something about Genetic Counseling and potentials risks involved, but the words Cystic Fibrosis just kept flashing through my brain. I called Tyler back and together we decided that he would get tested. Then, I researched{if you're preggo and wildly imaginative, don't do a lot of this...}. Then, I buried my head in my pillow and cried.
It wasn't until I read the Apostle Paul's words in Philippians, that my perspective changed:
I know what it is to be in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength
-Phil. 4:12-13
If the Apostle Paul--who faced prison, floggings, stoning, shipwreck-- can be "content whatever the circumstance", then so can I. What PEACE lies in believing that!
I am now about 17 weeks along. My story progresses with the bump. I work, play and generally do life with it. Sometimes the bump slays me, and I can barely keep my eyes open long enough to type, but other days, I feel energized and healthy. And every day, whatever the circumstance, I am reminded to be thankful.
The current lie I am tempted to believe is that Babe-o won't move, or that something terrible could be wrong because I haven't felt anything yet. In every week of this journey, there are potential "plagues" to entertain.
But if I have learned anything so far, it is this: The Enemy wants for me{or you, if you're a preggo like me} to lasso the lies; to let them entangle me and cultivate fear. But GOD--the Creator of both ME and my Babe-o, My Abba--graciously {and daily} ushers me into freedom with HIS truth--Babe-o is "fearfully and wonderfully made"(Psalm 139) and I must "Seek the Lord and his strength continually"(Psalm 105).
So yes, Babe-o is a burden. But I carry it joyfully and peacefully in daily dependence upon my Savior.
And each day I am presented the challenge: Will you partner with fear or freedom?
Today{and every day} I choose freedom.
This entry, of course, begs a Braveheart reference:
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