a mother's journey {the backlogs}

this post was originally written  March 13^th 2014, almost a year ago

Disclaimer:  this is my story.  I do not intend to be offensive, but sin is offensive and my sin materialized on this page may offend you.  I recognize that children are a “gift” from the Lord and understand that many couples struggle with infertility and others carry deep scars of children taken too soon.  So again, I reiterate, this is my story and I share it to tell of “what the Lord as done.”  Because even as I chose to walk “through the valley of the shadow of death,” He was “with me,”  “He restores my soul.”  He gently guided me “in the path of righteousness for His name sake,” and because now surely I know “my cup overflows,” just as surely as “His goodness and loving-kindness follow me all the days of my life.”

I remember starting down at those 4 blue “positive” lines like it was yesterday.

NO WAY. NOT HAPPENING.  This HAS to be a faulty test.

By the time Matt came around the corner, tears were already streaming down my face and I rapidly approaching hysteria.  He moved to take a step toward me and all I could say was, “I NEED you to leave RIGHT NOW; go get me a different brand- no make that four different brands.”

He was wise enough to know that was exactly what I needed in that moment and so he left.

I paced the kitchen a few times, unraveling more and more with each second.  Somewhere deep inside, I knew this was really happening

Not knowing where else to turn and about to altogether burst, I called mom.  No answer.  I dialed her again, still no answer.  

So I called my dad, so he could get mom. 

“How’s my girl?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but all I could manage was uncontrollable sobs.  Finally, I managed a weak, “I need to talk to mom.” 

“I’m already getting in my car, I’m two minutes away.  I don’t know why she didn’t answer, but stay on the phone with me.” 

I couldn’t stop crying. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“No.”

“Is Matt ok?”

“He’s fine.”

“Are you ok.” 

“No.” 

I realized then he was probably driving way over the speed limit and assuming the worst…

So I simply blurted out, “Dad I’m pregnant!”

...

He broke the silence.

Chuckling, he casually replied, “Well what are you crying for?” 

To which I gave no answer.  But I just may have cracked a smile (thanks dad).

“That’s great news honey!” 

He had arrived at home.

“I’m going to hand the phone to your mom so you can talk to her.”

I’m sure she was confused to hear her daughter sobbing into the phone and her husband simultaneously shouting “woo-hoo’s” behind her as he walked away.

“Sorry, I just saw you called.” 

More crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant.”

She spent the next ten minutes speaking truth into me, truth I so desperately needed.  Reminding me that this was a “gift” that the Lord was entrusting to with.  Reassuring me that God was giving us His best.  Reminding me that the Lord was blessing us.  And of the amazing faithfulness of my Savior, who had never once let me down...

Matt walked through the front door. 

Four tests later, we had four positive results.

I came into the kitchen and finally got around to pouring myself that first cup of morning coffee.  Sipping it I began to cry again, I didn’t make decaf.

Matt rounded the corner.

“Can I give you a hug?”

“No”

He wrestled me into his arms and bear hugged me anyways.

“Can I pray for you?”

“No”

He put his hand over mine and prayed for me anyways.

My husband is perfect for me.

That afternoon we went to the beach.

And I wish I could say that the Lord instantaneously changed the desires of my heart.  But that would be a lie.  I didn’t want children.  I was mad.  Pregnancy felt like something done to me, without my permission.  I confess that a few days passed before I even made the move to crack my Bible open.  Because, like Jonah, I just knew the Lord would do what He said he would do and change my heart—but, in my sin, I didn’t want Him too.  Instead I went for long runs along the coast, letting my anger push me till I collapsed.  I laid awake at night and sleep evaded me.  When I did manage to finally drift off to sleep my dreams were plagued by sin and selfishness.  As for my thought life, it was too dark to put on paper.  And then there was the guilt.  The guilt of my sin, of not seeking the Lord, of knowing I was wrong, of not wanting to allow Scripture to change me, of my thoughts.  Who had I become?  Is this really who I am?  How did I get here?  My “old man” had never felt more alive; though declared dead, when Christ redeemed me, it felt like he opened the coffin, stood in front of me (and behind) absolutely demanding to be heard. 

Matt was a rock for me.  He loved me through it.  He allowed me to wrestle with my sin.  He didn’t try to fix me.  He didn’t preach at me.  And in the face of my anger, he would gently remind me that I already knew the truth.  He trusted Christ to do the work.  And he never stopped reminding me that I wasn’t alone. 

God did the same.  There were specific moments, despite my sin, where something amazing would happen, and I would, in that moment, fully realize that it was a gift from Him.  One day it brought me to tears, because I, of all people, knew how horrible the depths of my sin.  And I couldn’t fathom that he could still openly love me as I actively chose sin, which I knew grieved Him deeply.  The next day I opened my Bible.

And God did more.  He changes hearts.

This pregnancy has been a journey for me.  A roller-coaster of feigning baby excitement and smiling for the sake of others, and genuine excitement over this new little life that the Lord is entrusting to us.  I can’t tell you exactly when the dark days lifted. 

I can tell you that, though the battles lesser, there were still moments, even at nine months I felt only sadness over the fact that soon it would no longer be just Matt and I. To which Matt would just smile and remind me that it will be better.

I can tell you that the Lord is still changing my heart.

I’m writing this nine days out from Ryker’s due date and I can also tell you that I truly cannot wait to meet him.  I really mean it, I can’t wait to meet our first-born son.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Obviously, I didn’t get around to posting this when it was written last March.  And today, Ryker John is almost 11 months old.  And I must tell you, that if we knew what God knows we would ask exactly for what he gives. 

Matt was right, it is better.  Hands-down, no question, so much better. 

I share this to tell of “what the Lord as done.”  Because even as I chose to walk “through the valley of the shadow of death,” He was “with me,”  “He restores my soul.”  He gently guided me “in the path of righteousness for His name sake,” and because now surely I know “my cup overflows,” just as surely as “His goodness and loving-kindness follow me all the days of my life.”

I must also tell you, I absolutely LOVE being Ryker’s mom.  So much so that this lady who genuinely wanted zero kids, now wants four!  But more on that later… 

Photos by Annie Groves and Kacey Luvi