Here He Comes!

**WARNING: brutally honest, hard feelings ahead. Topics relating to pregnancy, infertility, and miscarriage.**

So, we are having a baby.

Yes, we are just as shocked as you may be.

I really struggled for the first few weeks of my pregnancy, not because of what you may be thinking (I have not struggled very much with pregnancy sicknesses), but because I had strong self-conflict over how I should be feeling about this. We were shocked. We were terrified. We weren't ready for so much change. We weren't ready to accept such a solemn responsibility over a little person's life and care for his soul. We were relieved. We were grateful. We were excited, and we were completely confused.

This little man was not in our plan for this year (or even next, to be completely honest). We weren't even sure that we could have kids yet because of some health circumstances that I was still in the process of working through. Did we want kids? Absolutely! ... sometime in the future. Were we torn apart when we first realized we may not be able to have any of our own? Absolutely. I have always felt a calling toward fostering and adoption, but also wanted to have at least one of my own. Then there we were, not even ready, but blessed with a life to care for, and we had no idea what to think about it.

The part that I now realize I was faithlessly overlooking is that our plans and preferences aren't always in line with what is actually best for us. Through this whole situation, we have been able to see up close the impact that the Lord has made on our relationships with Him, our relationships with each other, and our ability to lean on the body of Christ when our world turns upside down.

Over the first month after we discovered we were expecting, we cycled from fear to shock to guilt, and back to fear. First through several cycles in a day, but gradually the cycles became longer and the emotions began to vary.

We were afraid of what the future would hold: how we would fit a baby into our small apartment. If we couldn't fit, how and where could we move to accommodate both a growing family as well as a possibly shrinking budget? We were afraid that we were unprepared to be parents. We were afraid that our relationships with each other would become strained, and that it would be too much on our baby marriage.

We were shocked at the result we saw on the pregnancy test. We were scheduled to leave for a "traveling-through-Europe" vacation the following day, and had absolutely no idea what we were getting ourselves into. We did not think we were able to have a baby yet. We were sure that we had not tried during our most optimal time. We took pregnancy tests twice the same day because we were sure the first one couldn't have been right.

We felt guilt because we were not instantaneously filled with joy. We felt guilt because so many of our friends had been trying and could not have children, or had conceived and lost their children back to Heaven. Then here we, who weren't even trying, were given a baby and felt the weight of him, rather than the joy so many of our friends were longing to feel. We felt guilt because we were not thankful to the Lord for answering our cries of inadequacy from when we found we may not have children of our own. We felt guilty for taking for granted and having a lack of appreciation for the great blessing the Lord had given us.

We felt guilty because we were afraid, shocked that we were feeling guilt, and afraid that we were shocked beyond a possibility of future acceptance and joy.

We cycled through our feelings rapidly, at first. I remember that morning lying in bed with Austin, as we both sat in silence, shedding tears, unable to come to grips with what we were witnessing the beginnings of; unable to even form our feelings into words. I remember becoming so emotionally incapacitated that I was unable to get out of bed for an hour. I remember showing up to work late, unable to acknowledge why, and immediately going to the bathroom to cry some more in peace.

As time went on, the cycles of our emotions lengthened, and began to include more positive emotions such as excitement, gratefulness, and joy. I remember the first time I saw him on the ultrasound, and realized that the movement I was witnessing was not movement of my own. I remember the ecstasy and thankfulness I felt to the Lord for giving me something I neither deserved nor expected Him to provide. I remember seeing my child propel himself into the middle of the fluids and watching him settle back down. I remember watching him for nearly 20 minutes as the technician patiently waited for him to slow down long enough to get the measurements she needed to obtain.

(All prior written in mid-August)

As an enneagram 5, writing those emotions out forced me out of my head space where I am so comfortable, and into my emotions.

And it drained me. I couldn't write more of this story for months.

Now, here we are in November, having processed and grown from the emotional "vomit" that is the previous 800 words. It hurt to admit those things, and it terrifies me to make this public, but God's work must be known. His good intentions for His children MUST be shared. The value of a child's life MUST be acknowledged.

Here we sit just a short month from my son's due date, and I can't imagine what life would be (even now before he has arrived) had our world not been shaken, torn apart, and rebuilt back in April. Over the course of the past few months, God has continued to rip our own perceptions of how life was set to progress into shreds, and has continued to rebuild our life, plans for the future, and relationships with Him in the most humbling, exciting, and efficient ways.

The fear has waned away. The shock has dissolved. The guilt has vanished.

In their places have appeared such strong longing, love, and connection that the feelings of those first few hours, days, and weeks of our awareness of this boy's existence have no place in our hearts anymore. They serve now as reminders of the Lord's presence in our lives and His love for us. They serve as a reminder of His deep knowledge of what we need even before we do; His continual presence. They serve as a reminder of the growth that He orchestrated in our lives, and the inarguable rightness of His will.

This child; this gift of God has become the presiding thought in our minds; our strongest anticipation. He has become an essential part of our family. He has become our greatest joy, and we have yet to see him face-to-face.