I Watched Him and Hurt So Badly I Couldn't Cry

Written in 2016:

Dear fellow women,

Last night, I watched my sweet boy as he lay next to me and nursed, half-asleep. There's nothing quite so dear as watching him sleep and experiencing the closeness of breastfeeding him. We've come along way since the early months when I cried almost every time I tried to feed him because it was so hard. He would scream and wail if he didn't latch on the first time he tried. It would take me five minutes of pacing and rocking him to calm him enough to try again. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Feeding was just one small bit of the hardship that came with my boy. Sleep deprivation, fear and emotional distress from breastfeeding trouble, pneumonia, trigeminal neuralgia, a kitchen fire, etc... the beginning of my Simon's life was so unbelievably hard. I didn't know how I was going to go on. But eventually, it got better. The short story is that having him was (and is) the hardest, most wonderful adventure I've ever been on.

Last night, as I soaked in the joy of being his mom, a deep, weighty, throbbing sadness came over me. I thought of all the babies who were never given a chance to live-- and I thought of their mommas. Oh, I hurt for their mommas. I read an article yesterday that asserted that no one, pro-life or pro-choice, wants an abortion. From what I've seen, it seems that most people agonize over the decision of what to do when unexpectedly pregnant, or at the very least make their decision to abort their child with a heavy heart. Having a baby is a scary, huge thing. It is. And I have gone through pregnancy, birth, and raising my son with the support of a loving husband and family. Even with such incredible support, becoming a mom still knocked me off my feet for months, and constantly humbles me.

Understandably, many women are scared or unsure how they would manage if they had a baby. Understandably, many women rightly assume that a baby will change their life forever. Fear of losing control motivates many decisions in my life, so I understand at least to a degree how difficult an unplanned pregnancy might be. I just wish  I could tell my fellow women: it's all worth it. Every self-sacrificing, difficult moment is worth it. The miracle of creating, carrying, birthing, and raising a child teaches you so much about life and about yourself. It's hard. Sometimes it makes you cry. BUT it's wonderful. Sometimes it makes you so happy you feel like you could burst. That life growing inside you will change your life into the hardest, most wonderful life that you could never have imagined.

As a staunchly pro-life person, I ache for the unborn babies who have no voice and who are killed because they aren't considered as beings with rights. It is unjust. I also ache for the women who are overwhelmed, afraid, and feel unprepared and alone in an unplanned pregnancy. I feel for you, my fellow women, and I urge you to realize it's not children that hold us back from a fulfilled life. What holds us back from a fulfilled life is fear. Don't let fear make your choice for you--not this choice, not any choice. Be courageous and embrace that child growing inside you, with all the scary unknowns, because you're a mighty woman. You've got this.

Dear Simon

Dear Simon,

I feel you kicking so often now. It's incredible every time. What a gift God has given to allow me to know you in this way! You're lucky, you know. From what I'm told, the first kid always gets the most pictures taken, the most written memories, etc. Let me tell you what God has already done in your life before you've even been born.

I prayed for you. Your dad will be starting his residency, a very busy season of life, toward the end of June. I really wanted you to come before he started residency, so we'd have at least a week or two together as a family. I asked God to give me a little boy, before residency, and I told Him I would name that boy "Simon." Simon is a variation of Simeon, meaning "He has heard me." Well, God did hear me. The morning I found out that you were growing in me, I sunk to  my knees on the kitchen floor and wept in thanks and praise. As I went to read my Bible that morning, God gave me a sweet gift. The reading in my yearly Bible was about Simon.  It was as if the Lord was saying, "You know I hear you." At that point, I still didn't know whether he would give me a little boy. I thought he might. Regardless of what the Lord decided, He had heard my prayer and graciously said "yes." I was overwhelmed. As you might imagine, your dad was pretty happy, too.

It wasn't long before the hard part came. I was sick to my stomach and unable to keep food down in the mornings from week 6 to week 16. That's how you got your first in-utero nickname, "Stinker." Don't worry, after 16 weeks brought relief, that one hasn't stuck. Something in me tells me you may regain the nickname again, if you are anywhere near are much trouble as your father and I were for our parents. :)

I've been through all kinds of emotions, up and down. It was hard to believe this was real until almost Christmas time when my belly started to show. It felt more real at 21 weeks, when I began to feel you move regularly. It feels like someone tickling my insides, you know. I love it. God has been so gracious with my anxiety about you. Some days, when you don't move as much, I worry. I will ask God to allow me to feel you move, and He will. Then, one day, while I was praying, He gently reminded me that I need to ask for TRUST more importantly than the ability to feel you move. (I pray for both now!)

I  always thought it would be easy to eat healthy and exercise when I was having a baby, because I knew I'd be thinking about another person in my decisions. The truth is, Simon, my selfishness is already a battle every day. I know that will only become a bigger battle when you're in my arms, but I also know that God will walk with us in this journey. I'm going to try to love you as well as I can, and I'm going to trust God to fill in the gaps and work on my heart. You're lucky, Simon, not because of the family you are born into---but because of the GOD of that family. He's going to walk with us in this.

I pray for you all the time, my sweet son. I pray that God would make you a man of God who loves others in a way that they "forget the channel seeing only [God]"... that you would be filled with the Spirit. I pray that God would help your dad and me to raise you to understand the Gospel--and that He would bring you to Himself. I pray that you would be a man of character whose pursuit of holiness and goodness comes out of gratitude for what Christ has already done for you. I pray that God would daily remind me that you belong to Him first, and I can trust Him with you. Oh, son,  I love you so already.

I don't know what the Lord will bring next in your life, but I rejoice that I have son, an answer to prayer, a covenant child. I rejoice and I hold you with open hands before a loving Father.

With fierce love,
Momma