How are you? No, really, how ARE you?

The fact that we are going to have a baby boy NEXT MONTH is daunting, though I believe that that would be the case regardless of whether or not Ayden had a heart condition. I realize that some people probably think that we are in denial or that we are putting up a brave front. I don’t believe that either of those is true. We have just been blessed with God’s Strength to push through the everyday.

Since you don’t often see me emote, I figured that I would let you in on some of my own heart:

I think that my fears most often manifest themselves through stress— stress over schoolwork, stress over Ayden’s room, stress over a dirty house, etc. Of course, stress is entirely unhealthy for both the baby and me, not to mention that stress suggests that I am in control… and well, I’m not, and I’m glad that I’m not.

Most of my tears have been shed with my husband. Other than when we first discovered Ayden’s congenital heart defect back in December, I haven’t had many moments of break down. The first one occurred quite randomly and took us both off guard. Bryan and I were watching a movie, and Ayden started moving. For some reason, his movement caused me to think of how safe and happy he is in my tummy. When the tears began to stream down my face, all I could say was that I just wanted him to be okay and that he was okay where he was. Indeed this last month of pregnancy and those hours of delivery are going to impress upon me absolute confusion. I will be struck by the paradox of love. I will want to meet my son, but I will want to hold him close in safety at the same time.

Any moments of absolute heartache seem to be often instigated by a rush of selfish thoughts that I can’t seem to get under control. (I AM a sinner; what can I say?) For instance, all parents dream of that moment when they get to hold their son or daughter after he/she is born. I may never have that moment. Or the moment may last but a few minutes before they take him from me. I think about what I will say to my son during those few minutes, and I am overwhelmed by how words seem so inadequate. Bryan comforted me by telling me that I can be telling him all the things that I want to say now. My cousin Matthew told me to speak words to him in the womb as Samson’s mother did.

I cried a lot this afternoon. I became so frustrated by the onslaught of things that “aren’t supposed to go this way.” We received a bill from my old OB, money that we thought was already taken care of from meeting my deductible last year. However, since we transferred doctors, I supposedly am no longer receiving global care from him, and we are supposed to pay him for the part of the pregnancy that he was part of. Then we will be hit with another bill from the new OB for the remainder of the pregnancy. Ugh. So discouraging.

Fortunately, I have tremendous comfort in my relationship to my husband. Today he listened to me cry on the phone, he at his desk downtown and me in the floor at home. He reminded me that the finances are so much less significant than the other concerns and that it was important for me to just calm down. Yesterday I asked Bryan, “We’re going to get through this, right?” He said that we would, one way or another. I responded, “At least we have each other.” He said, “That’s why we’ll get through it.” How grateful I am that I don’t have to fly solo, that I have Bryan and amazing family and friends.

So, you see, like one would expect, I’ve had my struggles. I’m no Wonder Woman. My only peace comes in knowing that God hasn’t abandoned my family, my son… me. I still have hope in the face of all that we know and all that we don’t. It doesn’t help for us to be worried about tomorrow so much so that we stop living today. The smiles that you see from me are sincere, not a coverup. I have much to be grateful for.