You know that important phone call from the doc’s office that you’ve been awaiting? It’ll only come through once you’ve cracked an egg onto the sizzling fry pan or sat on the toilet.
Pregnancy is a lesson in waiting. When I was newly pregnant with Micah, I bled a little. I had read that blood can be a sign of miscarriage so I frantically called my doctor. He was not a touchy feely dude, though apparently very good at what he did. While Kevin and I were holding hands in his office, hanging on to his every word, he explained, “Hey, if the baby isn’t healthy, it’s nature’s way of eliminating a bad embryo.” Our eyes widened so he added, “Or it might just be some spotting. Some old blood.” We prayed and awaited tests to come in the next day.
I remember praying, “Lord, this phone call is not my Savior, not my lifeline. I only have one Savior. But oh please oh please may this embryo turn into a fetus and then into a healthy baby boy. Please gift us with a healthy baby boy though I am not entitled to one.”
A wise friend met me during my lunch break to pass along some pregnancy books and I told him how scared I was and how I don’t think I can handle all the uncertainty for the duration of my first pregnancy. He shared that his wife and others also had some spotting and that it doesn’t always mean miscarriage. He also reminded me that pregnancy is all about ceding control. Giving it up to Him, every step of the way.
Pregnancy is a series of tests, literally. The phone call that came in today as soon as I cracked my egg onto my fry pan was that Belly Baby tested low-risk for spina bifida (great result). There will be more tests to come – for me and for Baby. All part of the journey. Especially for those of us at an Advanced Maternal Age.
The sermon from our pastor yesterday reminded us to ask ourselves what is God trying to teach us in our particular stage of life. For at least the past couple years, we were consumed by whether we are done having kids. Actually, scratch that: *I* was consumed, and Kevin was at peace with being done, if only his wife wouldn’t keep talking about The Yearning.
We are now blessed with this baby, no longer a What If but a real human baby moving around on that sonogram, due to arrive June 2017, yet there are moments where I am scared. Especially those moments when folks comment, “Wow, was this planned!? You guys are BRAVE!”
Factors that were obstacles still remain: no family around to help, we are still in NYC for better or for worse, we are older and more tired while the boys only get louder and more energetic, we need to grow our income, not diminish it indefinitely. As Kevin was falling asleep one night to the tune of my mentioning The Yearning once again, he broke it down clearly:
“If we have another kid, Jihee-yah, it will shave off five years of my life span.”
And yet, here we are. Back to this stage in our lives, where we have no choice but to cede all control over to Him. Regarding the health of Mama and Baby, financial provision as we absolutely must move to bigger space (no more delaying), and more. Do we really trust Him or do we only trust Him for a result?
In 2016 as well as this New Year, we’ve heard the sad news of loss among a handful of friends. As friends and fellow parents with similarly-aged children, we feel the weight of their loss. We truly do grieve with them. Howling, sometimes, when we hear new news of another loss. And we do confess that our faith falters and I can’t trust that His ways are higher.
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Romans 12:15 ESV
In the previous post announcing our baby #3 news, I ended by saying that I don’t believe in TMI but I think I do for now. How can I share details of our conception and pregnancy journey when friends are hurting? So for now, I take pause on our story. It just doesn’t feel right.
Once I surprised Kevin with our baby news when I officially confirmed the existence of baby on the morning of my 40th birthday, I teased him, “Hey, you sure you happy? You did say you gonna die five years earlier if we have another baby! What say you now!?”
Kevin sheepishly spoke right into my belly: “Daddy didn’t need those five years anyway.”