At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts We're having a girl. There's part of me as I heard the news that leapt with joy. There's so much that I want to share with a daughter, give to a daughter. But there's also part of me that has silently mourned. There's so much brokenness and misery that the world is going to give this little girl. For a long time in this pregnancy I really wanted a little boy first. There is so much pressure on the first child – they deal with the battery of their parents' indecisions and inexperience in often emotionally brutal ways. And little girls deal with it more severely. I have known so many mothers who simply cannot understand the stress that their little firstborn daughters live under. There's no one to tell these little girls they are ok, they are enough, they are protected, they don't have to compete to be accepted. Their badness and their disobedience is understood simply as just that, rather than the complicated vortex of self-will, misunderstood responsibility, and desire for acceptance that it is. First born daughters are so often tightly wound baskets of sorrow. They just often look like little tyrants aiming for command because they don't know what to do with who they are. For much of my life I longed for an older brother – someone who I thought would help me make friends, shelter me from the confusion of childhood, and help me with my parents. I longed for a male counterpart to just give me a wing to hide under through much of life's confusions. I grieve to think of our little girl having that same sense of dislocation. Being first is always a defenseless position, and I have known the hardness such vulnerability creates in little girls both personally and in the lives of women around me. I want to share all that I have found to be good and true and beautiful about being a woman with my little girl, but it terrifies me to think that in reality there will be so much twistedness and brokenness to try to teach her about and equip her for. There is so much in the world that will want to hurt her, to use her, to belittle her – and that is not what God created her for. In this world gender and its systems are deeply flawed and a cause of immeasurable pain for women. But that is not the whole story. God is here. And he gives us blessings in his graciousness. This little girl may not have an older brother, but she does have a truly wonderful man for her father. One who will be gentle, and kind, who I know will try to listen and hear her heart because he has demonstrated the same with me. He may not be able to function as her guide through the drama of peer life the way a brother would, but he will always be a warm and wise shelter for her when it is time to recharge for the world outside.
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At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
I have been feeling so much affection for my baby in recent days. It seems like all of the warm, glowy feelings people kept asking me about are finally here. I'm sure a lot of it is feeling the baby move so much. I feel it move enough now that I do not feel anxious about whether it is still alive. When I first started to feel it move, it was infrequent enough that I had a hard time not having anxiety when days passed without feeling it. Now I feel it just about every day. It's like a little goldfish swimming around in there. Sometimes it makes my heart want to burst. I've never been a big baby person generally speaking, but when I think about my own baby, and about kissing its little cheeks, my heart swarms with a million happy thoughts. Anxiety is a funny thing. Throughout so much of this pregnancy, and really throughout so much of my life, I recognize in myself the thought that I should feel anxious. Sometimes it feels like all of modern life is conspiring to make sure you are informed about the thousand reasons why you should be anxious. Have I eaten the right things? Did I eat something that might hurt the baby? If this happens what does it mean? If they do all these tests, doesn't it mean this many things can go wrong? There are literally thousands of things to worry about in pregnancy if one chose to do so. And it's not even pregnancy itself as a medical condition. Parenthood is an even bigger landmine. Do we live in the right place? Do we make enough money? How can we guarantee our income? How can I work and still be the mother I want to be? Again, there are thousands of things to worry about it if one chooses to do so. Oddly enough, I have felt less anxious, or at least less tempted to be anxious, during this pregnancy than maybe ever before in my life. I'm sure that will come and go – I'll have peaks and valleys as always – but being pregnant has made me have to just accept the flow of life and go with it. Sometimes it feels like I've stepped into a river and I have to put my feet up in order to let it move me forward. There's less anxiety in that than in trying to keep my feet stubbornly rooted. I don't know that we've made the best choices, I don't know that we will in the future. I don't know how to do everything I want to do. I don't know how to make it all work out. But I also can't pretend like God hasn't faithfully guided us already and will do so in the future. Our decisions very well could hurt us at some point in life, but God never will. The best antidote I've found in recent weeks to the temptation to worry is that of thankfulness. I'm sure to a million people wiser than me that seems like an obvious statement. But it's something I am only really experiencing now. I am so deeply thankful to God for the life I have. I am thankful for his material provision in our lives. I'm thankful for how easy it was to get pregnant after all of my fretting. I'm thankful for my work and the jobs he's given me. I'm thankful for the brain he has given me and the education I've received. I'm thankful for my friends and for my family. I'm thankful for Trey. These are all things I worry about so much, but when I stop and reflect with a thankful heart, I truly feel differently. At times I'm overwhelmed with the goodness God has given us. He has even given me a washer and dryer in the new apartment – something so small and trifling and yet so big in my mind as a blessing. There are times in my life when I can't help but consider the ways in which God not only blesses, but blesses abundantly through the little trifles which can seem so important. Tomorrow we find out the baby's gender. I can't wait. It feels like our first introduction to a new friend. I am so thankful for this little life and I pray that God will protect and bless it, just as he has done for me. (Erik Cleves Kristensen, "Painting of a Madonna.") Semitic Museum of Harvard, Cambridge, Massachusetts
The last couple of weeks have been rough. Job uncertainties, first steps to looking for another job that didn’t lead anywhere, intense travel for work, intense conversations for work, depressing elections, political fights with my dad, friends who don't seem to want to be my friend anymore. But they have all also felt somewhat normal. Or not normal, I guess, but maybe more like this is just what adult life looks like. Being an adult isn't easy – everything is so much more serious. Nothing will just be ok with time. The decisions I make and the words I speak now have far more implications for my life than they did ten years ago. At times it's all felt so heavy, as if the new normal in life requires adaptation to heavier burdens. But this morning while I was getting dressed, all of the sudden I felt an inexplicable joy. I just felt happy. I don't know why, but I did, and I'm thankful for it. The burdens are still there and they won't go away, but there is a profound space for joy and contentment in the world and I felt it this morning. I've started feeling the baby move and it's a wonderful feeling. It's reassuring and comforting, while also being quite surprising. The world this child is coming into is a crazy place with crazy people. And I don't know what this child's life will be like or whether he will honor the Lord, but I'm thankful for this baby and I'm thankful I can feel it move. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
There is so much to fear in life. Or rather, so much my brain tries to tell me I should fear. I don't necessarily think I feel anxious all the time, but I know I must, because my brain is constantly going over and over all of the things that I want to change or think should be different or am concerned about. I feel like there is so much that is telling me I should be anxious about whether my baby is still alive or not. Maybe I've done something or eaten something that was harmful. So many other people I know aren't making announcements until much later in the pregnancy – did I announce too early? Will I reap the consequences? Sometimes my body just aches in weird ways and I wonder if something is going wrong. I don't generally feel anxious, but sometimes I feel like I should be anxious and then I am. On Saturday I was driving home and I felt this really funny sensation in my left side. It was a feeling I don’t remember having before. It kind of felt like gas or when your muscles ripple from cramping up. But it also wasn't quite the same. It went on for a minute or so. I didn't think much of it, but at church yesterday someone asked me if I've felt the baby move, and it came to mind. I told her about it and she seems to think it was the baby. If so, it would be wonderful. I keep wanting to feel it again – then I would know it was the baby. If I could start feeling it, maybe then I wouldn’t worry as much about whether it's still alive or not. I'm sure that doesn't mean I wouldn't worry. I always seem to find something to worry about. But maybe at least my worry for my baby would subside a bit. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Last night I dreamt many dreams about my baby. I can't remember them all, but I remember the ones shortly before I woke up. The baby needed its diaper changed and Trey was trying to do so; however, the baby kept pooping while Trey was cleaning its butt and he couldn't figure out what to do. I had to jump in and take over. Afterwards, I started feeding the baby and I dreamt about how it will feel to have a baby sucking on my breast. In my dream it was a good experience. I also thought about the baby's name in my dream. I called her “V” and was very satisfied with it. After waking up, I felt even more certain that I do truly like the name. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Today we had our downs syndrome screening. It was amazing. We'll get our results back in a few days, but the technician said everything looked pretty good. But the ultrasound was incredibly. Absolutely stunning. It was on a huge screen and the little bug was moving around a ton. Like all over the place. We saw the legs, toes, arms, and fingers move around, crossing and uncrossing, waving and touching its face. There was fluid in its stomach, two brain hemispheres, and it liked to flip around a lot. In fact the technician had quite a challenging time getting the baby to do what she wanted it to do. She needed to get it in profile and kept having me cough to prod it into flipping. It would start to flip and then decide it wanted to go back the way it liked. Eventually she got it how she needed it, but it was quite funny. It was so incredibly beautiful. It has the most perfect little nose. Trey seemed quite taken aback by it all. I don't think he realized how much the baby could move at this point or how active it could be. It was pretty fun to watch it all really hit home for him. Thank you, Lord, for a good appointment. Thank you from the bottom of my heart that we have made it this far, that we are safe in our second trimester. You are still growing our baby and we praise you for it. Dr. G replied very kindly to my email today. He was very excited to hear that we are expecting and very much looks forward to our plans for the future. I still have some mourning to do over these life changes, but it is a good kind of mourning and I am thankful for people like Dr. G who know how to give encouraging words in the midst of it. I feel really sick again tonight for some reason. No idea why and quite frustrated, but at least things are generally subsiding. Oh, body, please be my friend. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
I am feeling so anxious about my baby these days. We hit twelve weeks yesterday, which is great, and of course there are no signs whatsoever of miscarriage, but I still worry that something has gone wrong and we'll find out at our next appointment. Thankfully, we have a sonogram on Friday, so we will find out if everything is ok then. But it's still so scary, not knowing anything about how your baby is forming. Is he or she ok? Does she have all of her or his pieces? Is he healthy? I have to keep myself from thinking about these questions too much because they can totally drive me crazy. I just have to trust the Lord and pray. Thankfully, Trey and I finally had sex last night. I've been so sick that it had been about three weeks since we last had sex. I still didn't feel great last night, but wow, did it feel good to have sex. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Please, Jesus, please let me poop. I haven't pooped in 3 days and I feel like shit is taking over my entire body. This body belongs to you. You own it. Please let me poop. I hate being pregnant. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Last week we had our first sonogram. It was amazing. First off, there's only one in there, which is good. I was feeling so sick that I had half convinced myself I was having twins. We could see the baby's heartbeat on the screen and at one point, the baby moved. Otherwise he sat pretty still. I've been having a difficult time not feeling anxious. This is the period in which a friend had her miscarriage, and even though I know everyone is different and all of my sickness is only a good sign, it's still hard not to worry. We have another appointment in two weeks – it's a Downs screening and we'll have a super high tech ultrasound. I feel like I just have to get to that appointment and then we're probably pretty good to go. But it's hard to not worry. I haven't been feeling as sick over the weekend (even though I still threw up on Saturday night like clockwork), and even though I absolutely know it's not the reason, I find myself worrying that I'm feeling less sick because I've miscarried. The really stupid thing is that I keep thinking, "I don't want to miscarry because then I'd have to start over with all of this sickness!" As if by being so sick I'm due a healthy baby. I'm not of course, but man, it is the most demoralizing thought to think that I could be so sick for so long with no results and then have to start over with all of the sickness all over again with no guarantees of success. And this, this, is where I start to see the depths of my self-focus. I struggle to remember to pray for my baby because I am so focused on praying for myself to feel better. And I don't want to miscarry because I don't want to have to endure another first trimester without a baby. I don't think these feelings and desires are bad in and of themselves; it's ok for me to want to feel better and it's ok to recognize that a fruitless morning sickness would really suck. But at the same time, this is a new life we are talking about and all I can think of is myself. Oh Jesus, please rework my soul. At Home, Arlington, Massachusetts
Oh my gosh. Why haven't I been praying for this kid every day? All I can think about is how sick I feel and I haven't started praying for this child. Lord God, this may be a relatively small and insignificant thing, but it is significant in my life and is in Trey's life. Lord, tonight I ask that you would bless our child with a different stomach than his father and mother have. Lord, I pray for a physically resilient digestive system for our little baby, because not having good stomachs has brought so much ridiculous grief to Trey and myself and I just really, really do not want our child to inherit how terrible our stomachs are. Lord, as you knit together this little one, please bless him with digestive health and vigor. Please. Amen. |
About the ProjectThis is a very personal project. It tracks my growth and development as I journeyed toward motherhood over the recent years. It doesn't document every experience I had, and probably neglects my more joyful and peaceful moments in the frenzy of trying to communicate my fears, anxieties, and doubts. If you are a friend or loved one, please do not let anything you read here overshadow what you know of me personally. If you are a stranger, please remember that a living and flawed person stands behind these words. To all my guests here, please understand these are not political statements and try to extend me grace, even as I share my failures and foibles - I have repented of much of what I share. I don't share this journal as an exemplar, but rather out of the desire to share my hope that entrance to motherhood does not need to be a fearful thing - despite the very real fears I have fought against. Motherhood is simply a part of life and one through which I am discovering more of myself and my God. Archives
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