28 Weeks: Feelin' Pregnant

All right, that's it--I'm pregnant. I've been suspecting it for a while, but for sure it has been confirmed this week.

• I've nibbled the salt off more pretzel sticks than I care to count.
• I fell asleep on a lounge chair at the pool in 95 degree heat because I just couldn't not sleep.
• I watched half a movie laying flat on my back on the rock hard floor in an attempt to avoid more pain from a squished nerve under my left ribs. 
• I sagged my non-maternity work out shorts so low today to get 'em under the belly that I felt like a gangster. 
• Yesterday I ate Skittles, a Kitkat, and Starbursts. Seriously? Yes. Seriously.
• I tried sucking in my stomach the other day at the pool. Definitely a no-go. 
• The springboard at Joshua's tumbling class almost buckled under the weight of me. (Okay, not really, but that's how I felt.)
• The scale really did almost buckle under me today ... I've passed the 20 pound mark. What the ...?!?!?!
• I spent precious nap time minutes measuring and taping masking tape on the floor of the nursery/guest room to better visualize and feel where the crib and changing table will go. Over three months from now. Three months ... are you getting that Kristin? 12 whole weeks left--get it through your head!!!! You are no where near done!!!!
• I crave sweet tea, mango tea, green tea ... any way to get water to be more yummy. 

Not only am I feelin' pregnant, but I'm also feeling that "second baby" guilt.

• I haven't done a weekly pregnancy blog for Baby Boo. 
• I haven't journaled as much for Baby Boo.
• I've taken less photos to mark the growth of Baby Boo. 
• Basically I'm a horrible mother. *wink* *wink*

However ....

• Joshua sure loves his baby sister! 
• He knows her name, and talks about her all the time.
• If any other being is referred to as "baby," Joshua immediately corrects the situation by adamantly saying her name, and patting my belly.
• Baby Boo gets lullabies sung to her, and books read to her almost every day. While her big brother sits on her, of course. :)
• So, basically, Baby Boo might have less blogs, less journals, and less pictures, but what does she get in return? The best big brother EVER!

Yep, Baby Boo is keeping it real around here. Real hot, real sweaty, and real uncomfortable. 12 weeks to go ......

I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can


Interesting note: Check out my blog from 27 weeks pregnant with Joshua--apparently it's around 27-28 weeks that I get antsy! Ha!

25 Weeks: The Gift of Infertility

There I was, kissing my two year old angel goodbye, and struggling to climb semi gracefully out of the car. At 25 weeks pregnant, "graceful" is quickly becoming a thing of the past. I balanced a handful of trash, my water bottle and my purse, and walked quickly toward the park.

As I tried to contain the prego-waddle while shuffling toward the bridge, I saw the person I was meeting.

Today, I met with a young woman struggling with infertility.

 

Today, I met myself. 

As we walked the lake a few times, it was like looking in a mirror. The questions she asked, the emotions she expressed, the tears she shed ... It was like stepping into my own past.

It hasn't been that long, and yet it has. As infertility consumes and defines you, so does pregnancy and motherhood. 25 weeks into my second successful pregnancy, and I am surprised at how infrequently I remember the infertility. Even with a miscarriage less than a year ago, I am much more "mother of toddler" and "pregnancy guru" than I am the "infertility voice" that I was.

And yet, it's all still there. All I had to do was hear this young woman ask me questions like:

Were you able to still enjoy life in the midst of trying to conceive? 

How did you connect with your husband in the midst of the pain? 

Were there days you were just sad? 

Was there ever a time you just didn't think you could ever hope again?

Is there any way to not be consumed by it? 

I remember. I remember the darkness. I remember the pain. I remember the desperation, the inability to pray, the discouraging moments when you realize you might not have any more capacity for the disappointment that follows high hopes. I remember the tears. I remember the bitterness. I remember the guilt, the desire to show excitement for friends, the horrifying days when you recognize your lack of trust in the Lord.

I remember.

And as I told this young woman today, as we exchanged tissues and tears, I am so incredibly grateful that God has redeemed our pain. He has and continues to use our journey of infertility to minister to others. And not only does He use it now--He used it during the pain.

And that's my hope is that we can all realize that God doesn't wait for our pain to pass, for us to come up from under the darkness to use it all for good. If we allow Him to, He can and will start now. 

So if you are in the midst of pain, as many of us are--in some way or another--ask God to use it, redeem it, work through it NOW. Don't wait for later, when it's over and in the past. Might as well start using it for good.

What an incredible gift those almost three years were--those years of crying, beseeching, shouting, stonewalling, learning, grieving, growing, hoping, stretching. And now, 25 weeks pregnant with Baby Boo, God allowed me the incredible honor of reaching back into my not so distant past to help encourage another woman, desperate to be a mother, and aching with the pain of unfulfilled hopes.

I hope I never forget. Ever. The pain of infertility continues to shape my path, and makes me who I am--and I am so grateful for it.