You don't have what it takes

When people found out I'm pregnant they told me to prepare for the amounts of 'advice' I would get from others. They weren't wrong. Friends and strangers alike, sometimes by request, the vast majority of times by complete surprise, have given me their 2 cents on my pregnancy and what they think I should do, expect, buy, eat, and so on. I can handle that. After all, most of the innocent souls are just trying to help.

But there is a line. And I found that line is drawn at a place I like to call 'mom-parison', which is basically a way mothers have found to compare themselves to others in every possible way because they 'know' that their way is the only way: epidural vs pain, OBGYN vs midwife, knowing the sex vs not knowing the sex, fetal testing vs not, and on and on goes the list down to the point where they seriously suck all the joy out of becoming a mother. So a long time ago I stopped listening, I tuned them out. Not all of them of course, I find incredible value in the help and advice from a core group of women whose {wanted} advice and help I cherish. 

On top of that, I have dedicated the last 21 weeks of my life to read about the way my entire body and life itself are changing. That picture up there is what my nightstand looks like. Yes, there are books in three languages there, THREE, {I bet my mom now feels justified in forcing me to take 3 years of french lessons. Well played mother, well played.} and although you may think that it is overkill, and you may tell me that no book in no language is going to teach me how to be a mother, and I may even agree with you, this is just the way I process things. I am a learner, a reader, a thinker, and as far  as I can remember, books have been my friends.

But here's where the plot thickens. 

Generally speaking, I feel smarter and all around better informed after I finish a book. This, however, has not been the case when it comes to this pregnancy. Although I have increased my knowledge of anatomy and psychology tenfold, every time I finish a book I have felt like there is more to know, like somehow I am still missing pieces. In one word I have felt inadequate for the job, and absolutely not worthy of the 'mother' title.

Until it hit me. I am not supposed to do this alone. There's Tim of course, and we will parent together to the best of our over-read ability, but that is not, nor will it ever be enough. We alone, in our own knowledge are not enough, we are in desperate need of the One who holds all wisdom, the One who will use our weaknesses to show His strength, the One who, after all, is the maker of this child growing inside me. We need Him, and we feel Him now closer and stronger than ever before.

I think our pastor put it best when he said: "You don't have what it takes. Run with that, and let God do the rest."

We had our 20 week ultrasound today. Words cannot express the insurmountable joy Tim and I felt at looking at our child, a fully formed baby, on the screen. And as I look at the printed screen pictures, over and over, tears of joy streaming down my face, I repeat: "I am not worthy of this miracle, I am not worthy of this joy." And He tells me: "But it is yours anyway." 

He is here, He will do this with us, and now I feel complete.


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