I just witnessed (via baby
monitor) Marin do her first somersault of all time in her crib. I don’t know if I should be worried or just
keep laughing. So… I guess this 19 week
preggo post goes out to the human bod and all the wacky things it can do. Not to
mention the disappearing hand in the pocket and the floating hand on the belly
pictured above. Whoa.
Beside body contortions and
a doctor’s apointment, there isn’t much going on around here today…just a few
post holiday blues and missing the guy in our lives who had to return to grown
up land today. Also, I’ve been doing a
bit of thinking. Warning, there’s a pregnant lady doing some thinking over here.
On a couple occasions last
week, I was able to get out of the house for errands and a pedicure. A lady named Sam got the awesome job of
dealing with my callouses. We got to
chatting about the holidays and who we were spending them with. She shared that her four kids were coming
over, but that she actually has five kids. Her fifth child, her daughter,
passed away when she was seventeen. I told
her that I was so sorry to hear that. It was the kind of sorry that comes from one mom to another. Stories like that
will always hurt to hear, but now they are heavier. It just hurts. And isn’t that all we can really offer for
stories shared. To hurt over them with the one who entrusted us with them, and maybe just maybe carry some of the load.
While returning a portion of
our overzealous purchase of Christmas tree lights to Wal-mart, I noticed a tiny
baby girl smiling back at me. I
asked her mom and dad how old she was.
“She is four months.” I asked if
they were getting rest. “Oh yeah, ever since she was three days old.” I giggled inside about my 19 month old
challenged sleeper. They continued like
proud parents do. “You know, we didn’t even know we were pregnant until 7
months in.” (surprised look) “The doctor told me I would NEVER be able to have
kids, so we were really surprised and happy.”
Then my hormones made me cry like
the jerks they are. Wal-mart and tears…I
mean, what are you lookin at?
Loss and gain. Stories.
Maybe it’s the hormones or motherhood or God’s grace, but these stories
are gifts and a reminder to me that God picks out our stories in his most
loving way. He gives them to us, and we can use
them to move people or mountains or all
of the above.
