November 1, 2019
When we first found out we were pregnant my nervousness outweighed my excitement and my mind went to all the areas of my life that were going to have to change. A piece of me remembered playing house as a kid and being the best mom to my plastic babies. I was the type of mom that made my kids peanut butter and jelly and let them cut out their sandwiches with cookie cutters to make shapes, we had tea parties and went to soccer games and money was no thing so we spent endless hours going shopping and I was the perfect balance of grace and truth. The other piece of me remembered that my plastic babies could never talk back to me, they couldn’t move unless I moved them, they didn’t care when I fed them or what I fed them, they always smiled at me because their smiles were painted on their faces. I had this brief moment of terror thinking about the fact that my non-plastic, living baby would actually be crying real tears at some point and would have an opinion and would like and dislike food and good heavens I was going to be the one who actually had to give birth to this thing. My other babies I just picked up at the store when I wanted and could lock them in a room when I was bored with them.
I was scared and spent a large majority of my pregnancy mourning the fact that my life wouldn’t be the same, my freedom wouldn’t be the same, my marriage wouldn’t be the same and I even remember saying to Jason one night, “do you think we’re going to like our life with a baby?”.
Then we had Colton and we quickly realized how much joy he brought into our lives. We carted him around everywhere and tried really hard to do life with him and not to let our life be him. We put him to sleep in his pack n play on the beach, went for a cabin trip with 10 friend, let him throw jello all over our kitchen and practically raised him at chick fill a. It worked for us and it worked for him.
There have been so many times Jason and I felt crazy for thinking we could ever not enjoy life with him.
It’s so hard to explain how we feel these days because things are going really well. If you saw Colton today you wouldn’t think he is sick. It almost makes it harder for us to be here because it seems unnecessary. I’ve really struggled with the feeling of loss the last few weeks. It seems silly because it’s not the tangible feeling of losing someone you love or losing a game that you’ve worked hard and strategized to win. I’m mourning the loss of what I thought this season would be. I know it’s not important but I would like to decorate my porch with pumpkins and mums and go to a corn maze or the cherry crest adventure farm. I would like to look forward to the holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas surrounded by people we care deeply for in our home that feels comforting and safe to us with home cooked food that we smelt preparing all morning. This is the busiest season at both of my jobs and I would like to be contributing to their success and offering an extra set of hands. But what I would like is so far from where I am currently sitting and it’s been hard.
When I was praying a few mornings ago around 5am when our sweet Colton James started to stir and mumble mama I knew the Lord was reminding me that this is the mom I’ve always wanted to be, the mom He’s called me to be, and the mom He’s prepared me to be . That the days I spent tending to my plastic babies and caring intently for them were for this season. A season to be still and hold Colton tight in my arms but lose in my grip, to lay down my expectations and to pick up expectancy. To be faithful in prayer and declare life and life in full over Colton. To find extraordinary joy in ordinary things. To be creative and be messy. To be flexible and to sometimes be at a point so low that I need God to carry me through.
He prepared me for the days when Colton is in pain and can’t move on his own and for the days when he’s scooting around the halls in his walker flashing his hammy smile at everyone who passes. He prepared me for the days of bad news and sadness and for the days of dancing and answered prayers. In the moments of sorrow he prepared me to remember that he’s gone before me and has not foresaken me. And on the days where i’m confident of his goodness he prepared me to tell the good news to others and be confident in his miracles. I know this season of loss will someday be rewarded with a season of abundance. And if I never see it earth side, that would be ok. And if I get to see it tomorrow, that would be ok.
Because today and tomorrow and forever, the mums and pumpkins and instagrammable photos have nothing to do with eternity. He has prepared me for what’s in front of me. He is more than enough.