I was raised Southern Baptist, in a slightly holy-roller-type household. My parents were Sunday School teachers on Sunday, and heathens during the week. I loved church, until I didn’t. I went through an agnostic phase, an atheist phase, and now I’m just back to having what I consider to be a normal relationship with God. We talk; I feel comforted. I think there are lots of ways to know God, and I have my own unique way.
Last night, K and I were talking about the enormity of this situation, about how this is the only job we will never put down. Once a mom/dad, always forever a mom/dad. While whispering and giggling and doing the normal pillow talk stuff, I was hit hard by the realization that I missed my mother. Yes, the woman I haven’t spoken to in more than five years – that one. It felt a punch to the gut – all of a sudden, I wanted nothing more than to tell my mom that I was pregnant.
Don’t worry – the feeling passed. I’m not opening that keg of snakes anytime soon.
Today, I read something that made me feel better about it all. This great blog post about the exhaustion of new moms (here):
He’s a parent. He knows what it feels like. He designed the system. Go ahead, tell Him how you really feel about it. Vent. This is the most honest kind of prayer. Give Him all your frustrations, your exhaustion, your desperation and hear how He listens to you.
Then know this – when you collapse at the end of a day; when the baby finally sleeps for a few snatched hours; when you close your eyes with no thought but the desperate need for sleep – He stays up, dear cousin. He stays awake and sings over you. Sings! All through the night. Just for you.
God promises to love me all day,
sing songs all through the night!
My husband and I created a sack of cells that very soon will turn into a fetus, that will hopefully turn into a baby, that will turn into a person (a real live person). I really think this pregnancy is a miracle for us – for this family. And I’m so very thankful.
I might not have parents anymore, but I do have a spirit that really, truly gives me everything I need. And if I can just trust that a little more, lean into that a little more, the hole where my parents should be is not as big.
Faith, not for the faint of heart.