I guess I’m not very good at trusting what I can’t see.
It hasn’t been a gut-wrenching, freezing kind of fear. I haven’t even really thought of it as fear. It doesn’t even feel like the worry that I’ve experienced in the past.
However, I’ve been scared.
It was hard for me to believe that you were real. I couldn’t see you, couldn’t see any signs of you when I first found out. I actually went back and took two more pregnancy tests before my first appointment just to make sure that I actually was pregnant.
Then, at the six-week ultrasound, there you were. A tiny little blob that looked nothing like a baby, but more like a bean.
They couldn’t nail down the heartbeat very well, guessing that it just started beating. I held my breath so they could try to keep the cursor over the little flicker, and they guessed it was at 105.
That was a little lower than they wanted, but no one seemed concerned.
I still couldn’t exactly believe that it was that easy, that what we tried for had come true right away, that you were going to be healthy and thriving.
We sat on the news for a while, because we were both scared. We’ve seen it. We’ve seen couples get excited and then feel traumatic pain when a little life doesn’t make it to the outside world. I think I distanced myself from that. I didn’t want to hurt.
We saw what looked like a little gummy bear at our 12-week appointment, and then a full-blown baby, actually waving its perfectly formed hand at 16 weeks.
My belly has started to grow, but I haven’t felt anything yet. Of course, the doubts are still there. Why should we be so lucky to have a perfect pregnancy, a perfect baby, when others around us are going through traumatic times?
I think I keep waiting for something to happen. I don’t want to. But I’m scared that it will.
I can see it now though. I can see you in the crib. I can see myself picking you up and rocking you back to sleep. I can see you tottling around, and your handsome daddy picking you up in his arms.
I want you so badly. I want everything to be perfect, and I pray that it will.
My prayer constantly is for you to have a strong body, strong mind and a heart turned toward God.
Because, although I don’t understand why God takes some babies and lets other families keep theirs, I pray so strongly that He lets us have ours. I pray that my doubts are unfounded and that He doesn’t look down on me for worrying.
I pray that you don’t follow after me in those footsteps, that you are like your dad and take life as it comes, dealing with one moment and one day at a time with the grace of God. I pray that worry and fear doesn’t steal moments of joy from you.
I love you little one. I can’t wait to meet you. And in the meantime, I pray that God’s hand is constantly around you, protecting you from every unforeseen ailment and issue. I pray that you grow big and strong so that you can make a difference in His kingdom someday in a way that I can’t even imagine.
Because, it seems like I’m not very good at imagining.
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Nate and I had a conversation after I wrote this, about how little control I have over this pregnancy process, about how little control we will truly have over the life of our child. We can do our best, teach our little one the best that we can, give them a foundation, but we will never have full control.
We will never be able to protect our child completely from harm, or illness. We will never be able to completely shape the way that our child acts, because it will have free will.
Nate said, this is actually probably the time that we have the most control, because free will doesn't quite start in the womb.
It was a day that I needed to process, to realize that I don't have control, but I do have a big God who looks over everything and everyone. Daily, for the rest of my life, I will have to put this little life in his hands.
Because there's only so much I can do, but He can do anything.
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