Today, I want to share not only our exciting reveal but also my heart. My hope is that I would always remain open and vulnerable so that God can use my story. Being transparent is often difficult and is definitely not glamorous. It’s easy to make our lives look picture perfect from the outside. I want to instead invite you in to the raw, ever-changing moments of my heart.
If you’ve kept up with me throughout this four month journey, you’ve probably heard me say that I was hoping for a girl. Yesterday, I realized that it was more than a hope. Every dream I’d built of my child was of a little girl. I pictured bows and glitter and dance recitals. I pictured girl talk and the kind of close knit relationship that I have with my mom. This idea became in so many ways my dream. I trusted the mommy sense everyone says you have that told me from the moment I saw “Pregnant” that I was having a girl, and I built our story around that. Although in casual conversation I said I would be happy regardless, I have to be honest and let you know that yesterday I was not happy. If anything, I felt devastated.
Now, I went through every possible emotion and scenario in my head. I told myself that I was selfish for complaining when I had a healthy baby, and that’s so very true. I told myself that it wasn’t fair to my child to be falling apart emotionally. I lectured myself, I guilted myself, and more than anything, I mourned the loss of this little person that only existed in my mind.
It wasn’t until this morning that I started to gain some clarity after talking with my spouse. Now let’s keep in mind that he held me and let me cry yesterday. He also brought me a coke Icee, which is definitely the way to my heart. Today looked a little more like tough love, however. This morning he reminded me of the reason that I chose to step in faith and allow this baby to come into our lives. He reminded me of my act of obedience and my faith in God’s calling. He reminded me that ultimately we don’t get to call the shots. He reminded me that every moment of love shared with my baby still applied to the baby that actually resides within me. Contrary to my belief, that love had not been wasted or stolen from our little boy. Honestly, that just made me mad for about thirty minutes, because I decided that sulking was my best option.
Then came the quiet moments where the Holy Spirit began to speak, and He reminded me of my last blog and the truths written there. He reminded me that this exact combination of cells needed to be born at this exact moment in time, because he has a calling and a purpose on his life. He reminded me that my calling to raise up a godly child had not changed, and the significance of his life and ministry were the same, even though I was a little mistaken about who he was. I realized that if those things were true and if this baby was called by God for this moment in time, then the beauty of raising this child had not at all diminished, nor had the importance of my calling to motherhood. It was then that I realized that every moment I spent in prayer for my child, I spent in prayer for this exact baby boy and every moment I spent with my hands resting on my stomach loving my child, I had loved him.
This isn’t a beautiful story of immediate obedience or triumph. However, it is an honest glimpse at a girl who had to look past what she thought was good to see that what God had in store was great.
Welcome to the world, baby boy. You are and always have been so loved.
*Originally posted on 7/25/17 on my previous site