So I was saving the last post to add some pictures and really update fully but realized coming back to it just now, not only has a bit of time passed but I have had very new experiences in the last day, much less weeks since I wrote.
I will cut to the chase, to say that I woke up yesterday morning feeling sorry for myself. It's been easy to imagine ways I could complain, or ways others seem to have a hard time in pregnancy but overall, things have been so good and I don't think I've been editing myself in saying that. I don't do that well anyway. Even if there have been times where I started to feel huge or less attractive, or even fussy, I have had overwhelming support from more than a few people that have helped me feel appreciated and encouraged through the last 9 months. Yesterday morning I woke up in a funk though. It was mostly in the sleepy first minutes of the day when I was saying goodbye to Aaron as he left for work but he noticed before I did. I don't even remember what I said or how I said it but by the time I woke up and had some breakfast, I realized that out of eagerness and impatience to meet our baby Bue, frustration with still lugging around a large belly, and changes that are so soon to come that will undoubtedly change things I haven't even thought of - I had sent my husband off to work without showing him that I appreciated him. Not only that, but I didn't wake up thankful in any way. It was all about me, as much as it could be. I don't think I'm being hard on myself. I wrestled with it all day in different ways. I essentially had the thoughts that I shouldn't have to still be pregnant. I had decided long ago that once I got to 37 weeks, the baby should come and God would surely let him because I have had a great pregnancy and I really didn't want to wait any more. .... Does that sound crazy? I think I had totally decided he was coming early. He still definitely could, but I am faced with the truth that God has successfully timed EVERY moment I've had on this earth without need for my input. So if my child came tomorrow (or in 3-ish measly weeks), I now feel like the kid that threw the tantrum about not getting ice-cream on the way to the surprise ice-cream party.
All that to say, today I fell in love again. Haha. Maybe it was partly because communion is offered every Sunday at our church and I'm faced with the gift of grace whether I go looking for it or not. But I love those moments you see your sin for what it is, small or big, still serious. I don't feel beat up. I feel loved. I feel moved. I feel pursued and taken care of. I have had so much peace in my home and life for the last year. I've had nothing to complain about. And I can't get over how good it feels, I don't ever want to stop loving it, when I remember that I'm not in control - Christ is... and I am better off because of it. Even if Him being in control just means that despite how I would wish things to go, they will go as they should and He will receive glory. I love it! I get so cheesy, I know. I kinda think genuine love is unpreventably cheesy with me.
I wrote last on November 8th I guess. I can't believe its been as long as it has. Time still feels like it's not passing because I am waiting. The baby definitely dropped atleast a week or a week and a half ago. (That also got my hopes up that he was coming soon, even though everywhere you look people say that can happen weeks and weeks before birth.) I have more room to breathe but it doesn't necessarily feel like it. My ribs are sore but its a result of him being in the best position to exit my body so that is something to be very pleased with. Just recently my hips have been sore a lot. I have forgotten what it's like to lay on my stomach, or I think I would miss it. Daily I remember that I bought an exercise ball and I find time to bounce on it, hoping it encourages Mr. Bue to consider exiting. I've been sewing anything and everything, quite productive. My house was too clean to feel like nesting but now the upstairs is an explosion of fabric and scissors. I'm more motivated to sew than I can ever remember being. Mr. Bue is somewhere around 7 lbs. (Sounds healthy and ripe does it not? Haha..)
So, excitement has never been so hard. And I may have said this but I think I am so eager because in some way, it's still unbelievable that this is really happening. One day, not so far, I will have a little human in my arms and a memory of pregnancy. I will be making mistakes in parenting and learning new skills. Part of me wants labor to happen because until it does, I can't imagine the little bundle that makes every little struggle thus far worth it. Part of me still, and surely will keep looking at Aaron every so often and thinking "this is real? we've really had a part in creating life together?" ..... Man. End of rambling for now.
I will cut to the chase, to say that I woke up yesterday morning feeling sorry for myself. It's been easy to imagine ways I could complain, or ways others seem to have a hard time in pregnancy but overall, things have been so good and I don't think I've been editing myself in saying that. I don't do that well anyway. Even if there have been times where I started to feel huge or less attractive, or even fussy, I have had overwhelming support from more than a few people that have helped me feel appreciated and encouraged through the last 9 months. Yesterday morning I woke up in a funk though. It was mostly in the sleepy first minutes of the day when I was saying goodbye to Aaron as he left for work but he noticed before I did. I don't even remember what I said or how I said it but by the time I woke up and had some breakfast, I realized that out of eagerness and impatience to meet our baby Bue, frustration with still lugging around a large belly, and changes that are so soon to come that will undoubtedly change things I haven't even thought of - I had sent my husband off to work without showing him that I appreciated him. Not only that, but I didn't wake up thankful in any way. It was all about me, as much as it could be. I don't think I'm being hard on myself. I wrestled with it all day in different ways. I essentially had the thoughts that I shouldn't have to still be pregnant. I had decided long ago that once I got to 37 weeks, the baby should come and God would surely let him because I have had a great pregnancy and I really didn't want to wait any more. .... Does that sound crazy? I think I had totally decided he was coming early. He still definitely could, but I am faced with the truth that God has successfully timed EVERY moment I've had on this earth without need for my input. So if my child came tomorrow (or in 3-ish measly weeks), I now feel like the kid that threw the tantrum about not getting ice-cream on the way to the surprise ice-cream party.
All that to say, today I fell in love again. Haha. Maybe it was partly because communion is offered every Sunday at our church and I'm faced with the gift of grace whether I go looking for it or not. But I love those moments you see your sin for what it is, small or big, still serious. I don't feel beat up. I feel loved. I feel moved. I feel pursued and taken care of. I have had so much peace in my home and life for the last year. I've had nothing to complain about. And I can't get over how good it feels, I don't ever want to stop loving it, when I remember that I'm not in control - Christ is... and I am better off because of it. Even if Him being in control just means that despite how I would wish things to go, they will go as they should and He will receive glory. I love it! I get so cheesy, I know. I kinda think genuine love is unpreventably cheesy with me.
I wrote last on November 8th I guess. I can't believe its been as long as it has. Time still feels like it's not passing because I am waiting. The baby definitely dropped atleast a week or a week and a half ago. (That also got my hopes up that he was coming soon, even though everywhere you look people say that can happen weeks and weeks before birth.) I have more room to breathe but it doesn't necessarily feel like it. My ribs are sore but its a result of him being in the best position to exit my body so that is something to be very pleased with. Just recently my hips have been sore a lot. I have forgotten what it's like to lay on my stomach, or I think I would miss it. Daily I remember that I bought an exercise ball and I find time to bounce on it, hoping it encourages Mr. Bue to consider exiting. I've been sewing anything and everything, quite productive. My house was too clean to feel like nesting but now the upstairs is an explosion of fabric and scissors. I'm more motivated to sew than I can ever remember being. Mr. Bue is somewhere around 7 lbs. (Sounds healthy and ripe does it not? Haha..)
So, excitement has never been so hard. And I may have said this but I think I am so eager because in some way, it's still unbelievable that this is really happening. One day, not so far, I will have a little human in my arms and a memory of pregnancy. I will be making mistakes in parenting and learning new skills. Part of me wants labor to happen because until it does, I can't imagine the little bundle that makes every little struggle thus far worth it. Part of me still, and surely will keep looking at Aaron every so often and thinking "this is real? we've really had a part in creating life together?" ..... Man. End of rambling for now.
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