Pregnancy is fun and adventurous and miraculous. It never gets old. To get to take part in growing a life, to get to watch your belly as that life grows, giving proof of life inside, is simply amazing.
Each doctor or midwife appointment holds new excitement as a mother gets to hear the baby’s heartbeat, find out how much her uterus has grown to accomodate her growing child, or even see her baby on the screen via ultrasound.
Throughout nine pregnancies (we’ve lost two), there have been a few instances where it’s been less than fun, though. Downright scary and heart-breaking at times.
My last appointment with the OB could have been one of those scary appointments. When it came time to listen for the baby’s heartbeat, she couldn’t find it. She tried and she tried and she tried, and with no success, she said we would need to do an ultrasound to confirm the heartbeat. Other times I would have been scared out of my mind. In other instances, I would have felt my heart drop into my stomach and begin to feel light-headed at the thought of something dreadful.
Except for one big thing. The whole time she was trying to listen for Landen’s heartbeat, we were watching him flip and flop all over the place, literally kicking at the instrument she was using. I wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t nervous. We knew he was alive because he was obviously doing acrobatics and laughing at us.
We walked over to the next room where the sonogram machine was, and sure enough, the little guy is happy and healthy as a lark (what does that mean, by the way…?) and we recorded his heart rate as 143 in my chart.
A bit of relief still swept over me as I realized that I had still needed to hear his heart beat. I still needed the evidence, in spite of my jumping stomach, that he was okay. I still wanted the proof of life that she was looking for to be found and written down somewhere…that all was well.
And it was.
As moms, how often do we worry needlessly about things that we already know are okay? I confess, more often than I should.
I could make a list of things I worry about, but I’ll spare you the insanity.
It’s Easter and I am reminded that it’s all okay.
There was this man who died to save the world. They went to check on his grave, but to their surprise, instead of death, they found proof of life, when they discovered He had overcome death and the grave.
So, what does Easter have to do with my egg-shaped belly, you ask?
Everything.
Promise of life. Promise of new things. Proof of life abundantly.
As a mom, the cares and concerns of this world can get overwhelming, but we have something really huge to hang onto. And that hope is found only in Jesus!
He came that we would have LIFE and have it to the fullest.
Boy, I sure do look full these days. Sorry….couldn’t help myself.
Seriously. We really don’t have to worry about anything. God’s got it all planned out and thankfully, He gave us His Son, so that if we choose to hang onto Him, it will all turn out for our good, and for His eternal purposes. I’m so thankful for Him. He really is the Ultimate Proof of Life.
Happy Easter!
Love
Brandy
