With our last baby class completed, I’m feeling a little vulnerable.
Up until this moment, there were still lots of things that stood as precursors to giving birth: baby showers, birthing and baby classes, painting the nursery, setting up his crib. All things that signified this baby would come someday, but not today. And now with most of those things behind us, the future is looking a lot more hypothetical and very, very real.
Pregnancy has taken me on a journey I didn’t expect . . . into a land of unknowns and uncontrollable circumstances, which undoubtedly pave the way to parenthood. And tonight I feel more raw and exposed than ever, with hands stretched out wide–looking for someone and something to take my place so that I can stand on the sidelines and cheer her on, then go home to my cozy, comfortable bed and say a little prayer for her. But no, it’s me, and there’s a little baby boy kicking furiously inside. I say prayers for him with every jolt, asking God to give us wisdom for the long haul and that he would grow up to be a man of faith and character.
Perhaps the only place we are most available to God is when we feel this raw, we have no other option but to trust, seek Him, and live close to Him. And I have never been more grateful for any season of life.