the gift of life.

Today was my first Mother's Day as a mother. My daughter is not yet crying aloud or breathing on her own. I haven't touched her skin or seen her face, but the life inside of me is already my child, and I am already her mother. And yet today, even as I felt her little kicks inside of me, it was a hard day.

It seems there would be no reason for me to struggle with this day. I have an incredible mother who is healthy, strong, and wise. We have a solid relationship and she loves me so well. My two grandmothers are a huge part of my life. I see them and speak to them often and they have shaped my character. I spent part of today with my mother-in-law who has exhibited strength and dignity over the past year+ despite suffering an unimaginable loss. And to top it all off, Caleb & I are expecting our daughter's arrival in one short month.

We didn't struggle to get to this point. Graciously and as no result of our own merit, God blessed us with this child just 2 short months after we decided to "not prevent." And as if that was not enough, I have had an easy, I dare say enjoyable, pregnancy. I've remained healthy & to our knowledge, our child is healthy as well. Sometimes I'm terrified that things have gone so wonderfully... too wonderfully... and that something will go wrong. It is a daily challenge for me to trust in the Lord's sovereign design, a design that is out of my control, and to rest in hopefulness and shun anxiety from creeping into my life.

So here I am on this day, Mothers Day number one, with so much to rejoice over, and yet with a heavy heart. The reason is this: As easy as it is for me to count my blessings, it is just as easy for me to count the hardships faced by women and families whom I love. Just as this bump I carry is a reminder to me of this gift of life granted to our family, it is a reminder to so many of pain, emptiness, and strife.

I have learned in the past year that it is possible for pure joy and deep sorrow to coexist... that in life's most despairing moments we can also experience a renewed sense of hope. Though I've learned much of this through coping with the sudden loss of family, I have also learned it through carrying this child. I have come to realize that my responsibility is not only to carry the physical weight of a little human, but to also carry the weight of the gift that she is deep in my heart and to not take her life for granted. I am called not only to "rejoice with those who rejoice" but also to "mourn with those who mourn," knowing that so many women I love would give anything to have the back pain and swollen feet I experience if it meant they were carrying a child.

I wish I could take on the pain of my friends who are suffering from infertility, miscarriages, or the death of a newborn. But I cannot take this from them. What I can do is remember them before I complain, listen to them as they cry, and pray for them in their pain. And along with these things, I can remember each day of motherhood, no matter how difficult things get, to feel the full weight of this gift of life that has been entrusted to me, and to honor the Lord in being a mom.

So to my friend who lost her child in the womb last month...

To my friend I bumped into at the doctor, undergoing infertility treatments and struggling to understand why she can't get pregnant, years after a pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage...

To my friend who cannot carry her husband's child due to medical reasons...

To my friend who spent exhaustive years of treatment and surgery until finally giving up on carrying a child...

To my friend who lost her son shortly after his birth...

To so many others who are aching or know the pain of the loss of a child...

Today I mourn with you, in hopes that tomorrow we will rejoice.

"Behold, I am making all things new...Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." - Rev. 21:5

preparation & anticipation.

Here in our city, the ice has melted & the sun has started to shine, at least more regularly than it has been. As the temperatures warm, people are emerging from their homes to enjoy the outdoors again after weeks of wet & cold gloominess. Daylight savings has ushered in a season of grilling after work and outdoor festivities with friends, and along with it has come the beginnings of my third trimester of pregnancy.

Early spring has come to be a time of preparation for me as I’ve gotten more interested and involved in gardening & having a yard to tend. It’s important to start making decisions and taking action long before the first seeds break the surface of the soil. Over the past few days, Caleb and I have been making big plans for our yard: taking down some trees to allow more sunshine through, starting construction on a compost bin, drawing up plans for our raised beds, and brainstorming what we’ll plant this season. Soon, I’ll start seeds indoors to move out to the beds so we can enjoy vegetables earlier in the summer, but to protect them from low temperatures that still loom. If we wait until the weather is just right to begin all of our projects, we won’t reap the benefits that we desire.

Yesterday as we were discussing placement for the garden beds in the backyard, I started to feel a sense of urgency. We have little time and much to do! We must tend the ground to make it ready for the advent of spring. We can’t wait for its arrival to start preparing…

This concept reminded me that the same is true for me as a mom. Of course I must prepare the nursery and have the necessary tools in place to care for Rynn (a crib, a carseat, diapers, itty bitty clothes). But what am I doing in my heart to prepare the way for this baby girl? How am I tending the soil of my spirit in anticipation of the blessing that’s about to be born?

Like the alarm going off the morning after we “spring” forward, this is a startling wake up call. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve done very little in preparation for embarking on what I know will be the most challenging but rewarding journey of my life. In a world where social media and the opinions of those around me demand that I make decisions on sleep habits and epidurals and breastfeeding, I’m left with little time for prayer and time in the Word to hear God’s opinions on parenting. I’m so busy taking care of the decisions that will impact my child physically that I have neglected to cultivate the aspect of me that will affect her most: my love.

So as I prepare the garden to nourish my little seeds, I’m resolving to prepare my heart for the little one who will be making her way into the world soon, relying on my care and attention and love to help her grow. May this spring be a reminder to us all to enjoy the moment, but to prepare and anticipate the joys and challenges of the season to come.