A few random facts about me may help shed some light on “my
story. ”
I wonder why people don’t touch my belly. After reading so
many warnings in pregnancy apps of unwanted belly rubs, I feel rather offended
that random strangers don’t want to share my body. Will you please touch
my belly for me and affirm my pregnancy?
My mom can’t remember what we’re naming our baby and keeps
guessing names like “Bammer” or “Boomer.” After her initial reaction to the
name we’re thinking of, we’ve decided not to share until after the baby is
born. My mom also once told me that she thought I’d produce 8 grandchildren for
her. Mom, I love you, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to disappoint you.
Our sister asked the family for pictures of all the kids so
she could put them all in the family calendar. Using baby photos of both me and
husband, we generated a couple photos of what our baby/toddler might look like
and submitted them. She didn’t think it was nearly as funny as we did. And I’ll
admit, one of the kids looked pretty scary, but the other one was rather cute.
Let’s hope the first photo was a bad photo combination!
My husband teases me about wanting small babies. As a
Newborn ICU nurse I got used to “normal” sized babies that weighed about 4
pounds or so. Seriously, they’re so cute! NONE of the kids on his side of the
family are of this breed. Like their parents, they are the hefty type- tall and
big. (After hearing that I come from a family of 11 kids, people often ask my
husband if he has a big family too, to which he replies, “Oh yeah, we’re all at
least over 250.” J)
I worry about my nether regions when delivering a large baby, and my husband
worries that I won’t love the chunky baby that I will most certainly have. Of
course I will.
I pretend I’m a great opera singer, my beautiful voice
breaking the heart of my lover. I figure this is the best time to sing it out
because one day my child will ask me to not be so loud. And then I’ll wish he
were back in my belly where he could still hear my lovely voice, but the sound
would be muffled and all he could do was kick me a little (which he does
without provocation most of the time anyway).
I often find myself joking my way out of hard situations, so
all joking aside, I would like to tell a small portion of my story, or my
struggle.
I am beautiful, big, and feminine. A symbol of life. My
belly is huge, my breasts are huge, and my heart is full. But I wasn’t always
this way.
I’m grateful for this little baby boy growing inside me. As
a Newborn ICU nurse, I witnessed many couples fighting helplessly as their
premature baby struggled to make it in this world. This of course was only
after learning that many of these couples faced a great fertility battle of many
years before they were ever “blessed enough” to have a baby in the NICU. (If
you’ve never experienced this challenge, you may think the word “battle” is too
dramatic here. It’s not.) I was sure that in placing me in a situation of such
heartache and desperation, God was showing me what I could never handle once I
tried to conceive a baby of my own. He was showing me that the world can be a
hard place to live in, but luckily I wouldn’t have to deal with the hard
things. I was wrong. After years of infertility and anger and bitterness toward
the fertile world (and at my sister who, bless her heart, had to try for two
whole months to conceive a child), I’ve come to realize God was showing me
tender mercies- He was showing me that yes, there will be struggles, and yes,
there will be victories. There will be heartache, but sometimes that leads to
immeasurable joy and the battle fought hard would only increase the happiness
found later.
And so, years after witnessing the painful truths of
infertility, I get to experience the wonderful and not-so-wonderful aspects of
pregnancy. And I welcome each one with the best smile I can muster. The new
stretch marks, the lack of sleep, the decrease in appetite juxtaposed with the
increase in hunger. I’ll admit, pregnancy is hard on your body, but I’d take it
any day over infertility- that was destroying my soul.
In the end, I discovered that I’m resilient. I’m no longer
surprised when challenges come my way. 12 weeks into my pregnancy, my husband
lost his job and less than 12 hours later I was in the hospital for emergency
surgery that threatened not only both my ovaries, but also my precious
pregnancy. The very medication I needed to take to achieve my pregnancy was now
ironically threatening this and all future pregnancies. I’ve since recovered
from the surgery, but my husband has not yet been able to find a job and money
is very tight around our house. Yet, we’re very blessed. We’ve been blessed by
the small hand-me-downs that have come our way to ease the financial stress of
this little baby boy. We’ve been blessed by the little kicks in my belly
reminding us that he’s growing well and is healthy and strong. We’ve been
blessed by the joy of knowing that we’re finally getting our little baby.
Why did I want to be a mother so badly? As the fourth of 11
kids, I helped raise my younger siblings- or let’s at least say that I helped
them to not die by feeding them, keeping them from falling in the stream by our
house, and taking away weapons and the like. I’ve dreamed of having a family of
my own one day and I’m nearly there. I married the most wonderful man and I’m
so excited to see him be a daddy- he is going to be so great! Now I get to
employ all those life-saving skills I learned as the older sister of 7 crazy
kids.
I’ve always been a big, tall girl (yes, finding maternity
pants on a budget is next to impossible). Though I’m in my third trimester,
it’s still not obvious to many people that I’m pregnant. This past week,
someone held the elevator for me, recognizing I am pregnant. It touched my
heart and made me feel silly for being so sentimental about the kindness of a
stranger and about how much I wanted people to realize that the reason I’m
walking slower than them and panting (and wearing the same shoes EVERY day) is
that I’m hiding a watermelon under my dress.
I am exhausted and happy every day, and every time I think I
didn’t do enough that day, I remind myself that I grew a HUMAN! What did anyone
else do?
