growing babies

I am a believer in optimism. It generally comes easily to me, largely as a bi-product of faith in God, I think. But sometimes, I lose my grip on it a bit and it takes more effort to hold on to it. Which is ok, I think. Very human. We ALL struggle sometimes. We even all struggle a LOT sometimes. And when those times pass, we pick ourselves up, forgive ourselves, and start again.

Lately I have been thinking in the wide range of perspectives we can choose from. This pregnancy is hard. The hardest of them all. My body is tired and stretched out and feels sort of like it's swearing at me some days, for how many times it's been asked to do this in the last few years. It has been hard for me to stay positive through all 26 weeks of this adventure. My back hurts. I have heartburn so badly that the prescription drugs only help if I combine them with the over-the-counter ones. I'm tired. I cry at the ends of "Tinkerbell" and "Tangled". I lose my patience with my kids. I don't make dinner. My house is messy...perpetually. My OB just told me I can't exercise any more. The baby is breach. We could move in a month or be here for another three years, and every day we're no closer to knowing than the day before. I have no place to put the baby's clothes. No, that's not true...I have one available dresser drawer for the baby's clothes. We can't find a name for this little man. My maternity clothes are tight because I'm bigger than I've ever been. And it's in my hips and thighs...how is that fair? I've already given up my formerly-flat stomach and my non tube-sock-shaped breasts. Now we have to add in hips and thighs as well??

But then...there is a quiet moment and I remember...how many tears I cried when I thought that this baby would never be... all the prayers we said that he would, indeed, come... my friend who has had over a dozen miscarriages... my family members who have struggled and cried through infertility...

And then I feel grateful. For a body that can conceive, grow, and sustain an entire human being, and then can sustain that human being as it transitions to life outside my belly. For a husband who doesn't care what our house looks like and is happy about what my body looks like. For a God who hears and answers prayers and sends me patience and love beyond my own. For grace. For the excitement I feel when I watch our three kids and know that THAT is what this heartburn is going to turn into. For a sister who sent all her maternity clothes just so I could have some that fit and make me feel comfortable. For the kicking and rolling we feel when I lay down at night. For tiny beings. For other mothers and their wisdom, especially my own mother.

And the gratitude and faith outweighs the struggling, by a million times.

Perspective is everything. I am blessed.