It’s mid October, 2023 and I’m two months out from giving birth to our sixth child. Even as I type that, I’m wondering how we got here.
Yes, I know “how this happened” and Caleb and I have made the decision to be open to life, welcoming each blessing as they come. I just mean how did we get here in life: Thirty-eight years old (I just had my 20 year high school reunion), going on six children, homeschooling and running a family business, even dabbling in some farm-ish type activities. How did we get here? It all goes so fast, and I don’t know how you feel about your life, but I never saw any of this coming. It’s all way better than I expected, thanks be to God, but a bit of a surprise nonethelesss.
Plus, half a dozen children just sounds like A LOT OF CHILDREN, right?!?!
Anyhoo- giving birth. I really cannot complain about my pregnancy, labor, and delivery experiences. I’m well aware that I’ve had it very easy as far as these things are concerned. No morning sickness, only a few very minor aches and pains towards the end, upbeat even-keeled moods, never gained more than 30 pounds, been very productive, and barely any stretch marks to show for it. After each pregnancy, I’ve felt like my body returned to normal and I’ve eventually been able to fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes.
I’ve heard of some doozy pregnancies, so none of this is lost on me. I don’t share any of this to brag, only to say those days are surely over.
This time, I’m rounder, softer, and waddlier than the previous. Is it ok if I’m as wide as I am tall? And I definitely popped my first varicose vein some time back. Glory! And with a couple months left to go, there’s plenty of time for it to all go down hill from here, which of course I’m imagining. It was fun while it lasted! We had a good run there, didn’t we, body? What can I expect? This is a geriatric pregnancy after all, and I’ve already put my body through this FIVE OTHER TIMES, bless its heart. It was only a matter of time. Is this what it feels like at the beginning of letting yourself go?
To be a mother is to willingly accept and submit ourselves to bodily discomfort and even pain for the sake of another. It is to know something, if even to a small degree, of what Jesus did for us.
So, there’s really just one thing left to say…
Dear little boy growing inside me,
This is my body, given for you.