Forgive the rambles.
I'm 35 weeks pregnant today. TODAY marks the 35th week I've been pregnant with this little creature called Spencer Brynne Cochran. Just for the record, we are going to call her Spencer. If you ask Elizabeth she says 'Benser', but that's another story. Oh! And as we were discussing Spencer today, Hayes asked if she was 'out yet'. No bud, you'll know when she's out. Trust me. Yesterday marked the '5 weeks until she's evicted via c section if she doesn't come earlier' date. And she could come earlier. She could stay in there until the bitter end. She is coming eventually. She will come when she's done baking and God says its time. Thankfully medicine allows me to HAVE a baby, otherwise I would have died in childbirth with #1. Praise God for modern medicine and amazing doctors, nurses, midwives, and hospital staff.
I'm 35 weeks pregnant and the ton of bricks that fell in my lap Sunday at church was this, I'm terrified.
There. I said it.
I'm terrified of having another little person. What on EARTH was I thinking? How do I know if I'm ready? Will I ever be ready? Is that possible? Do I deserve this? I can't give it back now. I'm thinking of all the negative things, which is so unlike me as I'm usually the most annoying positive person.... but I'm terrified. How will I get anything done? Can we afford this? Should I really have done this? How will I get laundry done? How will dinner get cooked? My house will never be clean, ever. I'll never ever be able to have alone time again. Ever. Again, remind me... WHAT WAS I THINKING?!
And then a wave of calm washed over me as the band continued to play...
I got this Carrie. You don't have to worry. I wouldn't have given you this child, or any of those children if I didn't think you were capable. And you are more than capable. As a matter of fact, I'm proud of you. I will take care of this if you will just let me.
I'm sorry, God. Do you want me to stop worrying? Do I even know how to do that? Is that possible? How do I even start? I worry about everything. Food, paying for childcare, money, clothing, laundry, how my body looks and feels, whether or not my kids are getting appropriate nutrition... you get it God? I don't know how to not worry.
The song continues and I think backwards to my week and the email I shared with someone about being a mom. I told her that she was doing a good job and I told her not to let Satan steal her joy. Vomit. Did I really share that with her less than 24 hours ago? I did, indeed. And here I am... letting Satan steal my joy. It is my joy.
It is my joy to be pregnant and to be able to have another baby... when there are so many women who desperately want to be a mother. They want to carry a baby, or two and be miserable.
It is my joy to be overwhelmed at the task of being a mom and the caretaker in my home... there are women who are missing their children because they are all grown up now.
It is my joy to remove stains from clothing, and sort loads of laundry, and fold the tiniest of underwear.... because some people don't have those things.
It is my joy to help to raise these little people and teach them about God and all His wonders. Good or bad, his wonders are new each day.... and I get to share that through the eyes of my children. His children.
Shame on me for letting Satan steal my joy. I won't let him do that again. I won't allow tears to fall unless I'm happy. I won't allow myself to feel regret for this family I have. I will not be afraid of the tasks that God has given me in this life.
I will be joyful in all circumstances, even if I am terrified. I am a child of a God who's got this. My worries aren't even worth a thought because of His promises and the joy He provides to me.