Labor Pains

Nicole was by closest friend in college; first as a friend on the same floor of Governor's Hall and later as my roommate in two and a half apartments. She was the maid of honor for our wedding. Although we haven't been as close since we finished school and she moved back to her home town, I love her just the same. Tonight she's on my mind because within the next 24 hours (hopefully) she'll become a mom. She went to the hospital this evening to be induced, and hopefully by morning her little guy will be here.

I wonder what it's like. Labor, I mean. At times I think of myself as such a weeny, but other times I've been surprised by how much pain I've been able to endure. I remember talking with my sister once about how much it hurts, and like many others, she said that the strange thing is that after it's over and you have the baby, you know you'd be willing to go through it all over again. The joy of having the new little one far outweighs the pain.

After we'd been trying to get pregnant for about two years, I came across John 16:21 that says this exact thing: "A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world." I'm sure I had read this many times, but this is the first time that it really meant something. Instead of it making me feel sad, it made me feel hopeful because it was like I knew that it was meant for me and our situation; that in our case the pain is just lasting a lot longer. But no matter how long it takes for us to experience the joy that is felt when we become parents, all of the anguish we've felt along the way will be forgotten...or at least not seen as something that wasn't worth going through to get to the end result.

For a long time, that verse gave me a lot of peace and hope. It still does to some extent, but I must admit that the last couple months have been rough. Back in October, I was nearly certain that I was pregnant. For several months prior, my cycle had been shorter at 25-26 days. So when October came, and we had made a good effort ;), and the days started passing into 27, 28, 29...I was certain that it must finally be happening. On day 29 I couldn't concentrate at work anymore so I raced home, and despite not being the best time we took a test in the last afternoon. It was negative, but of course, that was because it was the afternoon. So early the next morning, when I woke up around 4am, I thought...why not? It was negative and within 15 minutes I was hunched over with cramps. Ok, so I probably should have waited longer to test, but the timing still felt cruel.

Here we are two months later, and we're sitting on the eve of day 29. This month, we tried something new. I started charting my temperature. I know, we've been at this for over three years, so this may seem a bit late; but for some reason, I had always been very against getting "obsessive." I thought that taking my temp every day just seemed like a bit much, and that if I just paid attention to other signs (not obsessively so, mind you) and tried to time things right that we'd get pregnant; that God didn't need my help by knowing what my temp was. I'm not sure exactly what changed my mind; I think that I finally felt like I was going to go insane if I didn't do something. I also bought a whole bunch of vitamins and supplements which I took for approximately 5 days. (I've never been real great with pills, so I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking.)

Anyway, based on the temp chart I'm pretty sure that I know what day I ovulated and I'm pretty sure things were timed quite well. So of course, my hopes are trying their darnedest to get up...but I refuse. I can't take the huge let down. So of course, I'm trying to use reverse psychology and tell myself that I won't be pregnant and that that's ok because now I've got this temp taking thing down and this month I'll be great with the pills.

But despite my best efforts, that little voice of hope is rising up. The silly little voice that likes to come up with cool stories like: "Won't it be amazing when you find out that you're pregnant on the same day Nicole has her baby? And the timing will be perfect because Matt and Jen are coming up for Christmas; and if we have exciting news to tell them, it won't be hard being around them since she's due in May. And it will be so much fun making the announcement at Christmas dinner!!! Everyone will be thrilled and it will be picture perfect and it will be the first Christmas in four years that my heart doesn't ache to have a child to hang a stocking for...because next year it will be our turn."  Yeah, my best efforts aren't so good when it comes to this.

And so I wait. And I remember that whatever comes this week, one of two things will happen: either I will be pregnant and the "anguish" we've been feeling will have a light at the end of the tunnel or I won't be. And in that case, I will count this month among that "anguish" that will one day be forgotten.

The Power of a Preposition

It's amazing what a difference one word can make. Several weeks ago, I was lying in bed actually letting myself feel the sorrow that I hadn't let out in a while about this whole waiting for baby business. I won't lie: it was a night of not feeling so thrilled with God's plan. In fact, curled up in a sobbing mess I actually asked God, "Why are you doing this to me?" I was feeling extra bratty, so I repeated the question several times and hoped that I was really making Him feel bad for what He'd done. And then I heard it; or felt it...or whatever it is when you know the Spirit has spoken to your heart. I heard the reply, "I'm not doing this to you, I'm doing it for you."

I'm still not sure what to make of that. I haven't even told Ryan about it. And as much as analyzing is my thing, for some reason, I can't come up with any hypothetical stories of how exactly the difference that one word makes plays into our story. The easy answer is that it was God reassuring me that His plan is what's best for us. I know that, and definitely didn't mind the reminder. But I can't help but expect that there's much more to it. I don't know what it is, but I sure can't wait to find out. In the meantime, I'm going to try to focus on the power of that one little preposition. This isn't something God is doing to us; He's doing it for us. And that's pretty amazing.