In honor of Mother’s Day, I’m finally writing a post I’ve been wanting to write for a long time – ever since Lydia was born.
Not a post about my mom (although she is amazing and deserves her own post), but about being a mom.
On my previous blog at www.xanga.com/wintrydesert I told Lydia’s birth story, which was one of the most difficult days of my life.
But the part I never got to tell is why her name, Lydia Jane, means so much to me after going through that – especially the Jane.
Jane means God is gracious. And the truth is just being able to be pregnant and have a healthy baby means that God IS and has been gracious to me.
Problem is, I didn’t act like that. The whole pregnancy was difficult in many ways. Many women have much more difficult pregnancies, but I chose to foolishly focus on how difficult the pregnancy was for me.
I complained about the heat (the summer was AWFUL), the aches and pains, the nausea (long and much worse than the first pregnancy), but most of all Lydia’s pregnancy was marked by the stress of worrying.
There was the bleeding at the beginning of the pregnancy (a threatened miscarriage?), the stress of deciding whether to do a VBAC with a midwife or a doctor, which midwife to use, would the placenta be in the right place for a VBAC…
Then she was breach!
She’s too small!
Can the midwife turn her? Yes, success – baby turned!
BUT – yes, more worries. Her placenta looked unhealthy. What does that even mean?
To the neonataligist who said he didn’t see anything wrong with the placenta, but, she’s small! And he spotted other “abnormalities.”
*Sigh* I was SO exhausted. That was at 37 weeks. I thought “If only I can go into labor THEN we’ll see her and it will be over!”
Yeah, right. Labor was long, took forever to start, was scary, went to the hospital, labored forever some more, ended up with a c-section.
Shoved in the corner of an overcrowded hospital room. No sleep for two (more!) nights. Finally home.
See? I’m pretty good at complaining! And that’s what I did – the whole pregnancy and labor and recovery process.
But through it all, I knew I wasn’t focusing on what I should have been – the fact that I DID have a healthy baby girl and I was alive and well, too.
See, God IS gracious.
He doesn’t deliver it in the packages we’d like – beautiful, healthy baby girl AND smooth, pleasant pregnancy and delivery.
It’s good to remember what the gift is – a baby, a human soul, entrusted to us to raise up and nurture.
And THAT is a gift, a gracious gift.
But, you know what? The pain is a gift, too. It’s God’s grace that allows me to suffer through such a frustrating, helpless time to show me I had my attitude and priorities totally wrong.
A severe mercy, maybe? Not even very severe, but definitely a good way to wake me up and rebuke me to shake off my foolishness.
“This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” ~ Lam. 3:21-23
With all the complaining I’d done and my horrible, ungrateful attitude, I didn’t deserve a perfectly beautiful, healthy baby girl.
But God is gracious – he does not give us what we deserve. Thank God.