This morning I found out I am pregnant again. I realized last night that I might be "late," but wasn't sure because my cycle is still out of whack after just getting it all back 2 months ago from having my son, Aidan, last May. So, this morning, when my husband got up, I did too and I took a test. He knocked on the bathroom door and opened it. I was sitting on the lid of the toilet, staring at the test on the side of the tub as if it was a child with 3 eyes. At first, the line down the middle of the "cross" was so faint, I was sure my eyes were playing tricks on me. But as my husband entered the room and shut the door, the line grew dark and by the time I was finished telling myself for the fiftieth time that I wasn't sure I wanted to be pregnant again just yet, he had a look of complete fear in his eyes and he whispered, 'hold me.' I'm not sure how long I had the thought in my head that he should be holding me since I'm the one that is going to get bigger, I'm the one that has to carry this child inside me for 40 weeks, I'm the one who has to be up late at night to nurse after he/she is born......but the time couldn't have been more than a few milliseconds because I did hold him and I wasn't thinking anything but I hope he's okay with this.
The thing is, I had one and then 8 months later, I was pregnant with my second. I knew in my heart that God was not finished but I thought I'd have a little more time between the second and third. I had been exercising, I just bought a bunch of clothes because I had lost a lot of weight and nothing fit anymore. I just decided the other day I was going to start jogging in the mornings while my husband got ready for work. But as I am typing these things, none of it matters. I hear God laughing at me because these things are so petty. I hear Him laughing even when I worry about money and the fact that we have no health insurance right now. Because He is so much bigger than all of it and I can't seem to remember that quite as much as I should.
And I feel bad for worrying, for feeling like I don't want to be pregnant. I love being a mother, I love doing what God wants me to do. But I also feel overwhelmed and stretched way beyond myself....But then again, isn't that what mothers are supposed to do, stretch far beyond themselves for their children?
I guess in the next 9 or so months, I'll be doing just a little more stretching.