I know that God must be working in me because I feel like a different person now compared to who I was before October 8th and our initial sonogram.
I think many of the changes are good. I am more grateful and more appreciative of the people around me who have been so understanding and supportive and loving. My bosses who take good care of me and my co-workers who covered my butt while I was out of work. My siblings who love me unconditionally and my parents who showed me how to live a life that glorifies God even in the midst of loss. I spend more time with these people and less time rushing around getting stuff done.
But I also think some of the changes are not so good. I didn’t think I was doing this, but I know now that I am. I resent people for being ignorant of suffering. I envy their joy. I want to trade them my worn, scarred, battle-weary heart for their shiny, brand new, perfect one.
I see a mom with her newborn and I wonder if she has ever had to feel her child go cold in her arms like I did. I see a gloriously round pregnant belly and I wonder if she can even imagine how silent the delivery of a stillborn is. I listen to parents complain about the lack of sleep and I wonder if they’ve known what it felt like to find a child lifeless in their crib after a full night’s sleep like my daddy did. I see toddlers throwing tantrums in the store and I am curious if their frazzled parents realize how much I would give to hear Luna’s little voice. It’s not that I am not happy for these women. Believe me, I am so so so happy for them. I am just jealous of their blissful ignorance.
I know that true ignorance is not blissful. How can we truly worship a God if we have no idea of the grand scale of his love for us? How can we be truly thankful if we have no clue what we have in relationship to what we could have been given? How can we truly know the Creator if we cannot see his hand in everything around us?
If I am being completely open right now, I wish my belly was full and showing the 36 weeks it should be showing at this point. I am grateful for the lessons that God has taught me through this. And I am grateful for the fact that God has taken my shiny, brand-new human heart and made it look more like His heart. But there are certainly moments (okay, many moments strung together into days) where I wish He hadn’t chosen me for this sort of life and I could be blissfully ignorant. Moments where I wish for an almost newborn girl kicking me in the ribs and giving me heartburn. Nights where I wake up holding my empty belly or cradling empty air because I dreamt of and wished for my gorgeous, bald, old-man looking Luna.
And so, instead of gaining weight and preparing for labor, I am losing my baby weight and feeling strangely incomplete. Like I am constantly forgetting something.
To every mother out there who knows how I am feeling, please know that I am praying for you. Whenever I am overcome by these feelings, I pray for you. Working moms, whenever I start to feel like my working self could use a break, I pray for you. My solace is in the fact that my God is making me into who I am supposed to be. And my prayer is that you would also feel like God is making you into who you are supposed to be. “For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters” (Romans 8:29 NIV).
Don’t fight Him. Don’t be the child who throws herself on the floor in desperation. Trust Him and trust His plan.