There is something magical about growing a human. You are becoming a mother. Your body is doing this totally amazing thing of knowing exactly what to do and when. All that is required is for you to find time to rest (easier said than done…until the third trimester hits…and you have no choice :)) and to eat (and eat and eat….are you going to eat that last bite?). All of a sudden, no matter what your story, the getting pregnant seems like it was the “easy” part and now your body is no longer your own. It’s like you are playing host to a very particular guest.
Your belly grows and swells, and you visibly see the human inside you bump and roll. You look down at the movement of your belly and quietly smile, like you’ve got a secret. The best kept secret in the world: becoming a mother. You try and time it just right by placing your husband’s hand on the spot where little feet (or maybe it was a hand) push forcefully. But the little person inside of your has a mind of his own, and moves in bursts or sleeps soundly.
There is also something quietly mysterious in being pregnant. As this little being practices breathing, blinking, moving, all for the first time in utero, you continue to move throughout your day, doing all the mundane things. You go to work, perform dutifully…from a chair, go to the gym (if you can stand it) and try to get some cardio in and push out some squats (you’ve heard you’re gonna need it for labor), and eat your meals (trying not to fall asleep in your bowl of pasta), all while growing a human being. An intricately made, handmade, unique human being who is growing tiny fingers, toes, and a button nose! And before you were even born Baby Boy, you taught me that God is a miracle-maker.
I will say, my husband and I didn’t come this way easily, the job of getting pregnant. There were heartaches before Sam. Rip-your-heart-right-out aches. You wonder why and you ask all the questions and there are no answers to be had. Becoming a mother is not always easy. But through all of that, you learn to laugh again. And you get a little more and a little more excited to meet this special person inside of you. But I’ll save those stories or for another time because, albeit dark and devastating, they too teach a very different lesson.
“And then you were born…on your due date!” said no new mother ever. A rare occurrence, if ever. Secretly, I wanted to be one of those moms where her baby comes early (within reason, of course). I wanted to look at my husband and say, “Oh boy, this is it!”
And of course I believed labor would surprise me even though I had been educated on all things birth. But in my heart of hearts I wanted to be an actress in a movie saying, “Oh look, honey, I’m in labor!” haha. Buuuut it didn’t happen like that. Nothing every really happens in the way we expect, does it? We plot and we plan but in vain. Always in vain. Becoming a mother was no different.
Time felt like it actually stood still between the Due Date and when Baby Boy was born. For conversations and shared meals on end. It was a sweet spot where long, hopeful conversations occurred and comfort-food meals of grilled cheese and turkey sandwiches were eaten. Such a special time that I want to remember. To burn into my memory.
People always refer to their lives as the time Before Kids and the time After Kids. And I wanted to make sure this time Before Kids with my husband was not taken for granted. I learned in those moments Before Kids not to rush certain events in my life; to let go of what I couldn’t control. To relish in this sweet time of becoming a mother and let it wash over me like a slow building wave. Oh sweet baby boy, there is such joy in the waiting, if we merely reach out and touch it.
And the anticipation of being a mom lingers in the waiting. You become a swirly combination of hope and anxiety. You hope to be a good mother, a patient mother, a mother where your child will grow strong under your care. Yet you are anxious that you will be none of these things. You fear you will lose sight of what is really important and take for granted moments that you feel will last an eternity.
And I just want you to know, that through all of these feelings and thoughts, you are not alone. You have a community where I want you to not only survive but thrive. Where tears will be shared but laughter will triumph. By God’s grace, we can spur one another on as we tackle this intricate, delicate, often complicated thing called Motherhood.
