Just a few weeks ago, I was desperate. There is no better
word to describe where I was, who I was or how I saw things. Desperate. I was desperate
for the sun to shine and the days to be longer. I was desperate for the
holidays to end and a normal routine to return. I was desperate to find joy in
this season and feel the excitement that a new baby brings. But, joy was
eluding me. I was too tired, too drained, and too sick to fight for it or even
remind myself of truth. Things seemed dark and heavy. Tears flowed often –
memories of my dad or grandparents, frustration with the kids, overwhelmed with
the thought of adding more to our already full life. Seriously, what were
we thinking? I had gotten to the point that I wished I wasn’t pregnant. Maybe
if I weren’t pregnant I would parent the children I have better. I could keep
my house in a neater working order. I could stop throwing up throughout the
day. I could cook again. I could think. I could be one step closer to my
children not needing me each second of each day and maybe, just maybe, breathe.
But, I knew in my heart this wasn’t right. We had prayed
for this child. We had carefully considered opening ourselves up to another
member of our family. We had felt for months that our family wasn’t complete.
We had analyzed the “pros” and “cons.” We had relived my postpartum depression,
the financial strain, the help I would need, the addition burden we placed on
ourselves. It all seemed worth it. It is all worth it but I was blinded to see
that. I was overwhelmed with the negatives and failed to remember the blessings
in bringing forth life. I knew I needed to be reminded of truth. My heart and
mind needed to change. I knew I couldn’t make it 5 more months being pregnant
feeling like this and then entering a postpartum phase that could pull me even
farther away from the light. Desperate.
So, I did what felt like the hardest thing I have done. I
reached out. I told someone how I felt. I actually said the words to a friend
“I wish I was not pregnant.” I cried. She cried. I felt lost and scared.
She prayed for me and encouraged me to reach out to others. I wrote and email
to a few of my girlfriends and explained where I was. It’s terrifying to do –
to let someone - multiple people - into your web of lies in your own brain and
admit how you really feel. Terrifying.
But, what happened is nothing short of a miracle. I sent
the email. That day I tangibly felt the heaviness lift from me. I stopped
throwing up for the first time in weeks. I felt lighter. I had energy. My house
was still a wreck, parenting is still hard, and I still am overwhelmed. But,
the darkness is not around me. I can move without feeling hopeless. I can imagine
a future with this baby in this family and smile. I can see the joy growing as
I am reminded of why children are such a blessing. There is no way I could have
gotten to this place on my own. I was stuck. I was frozen – paralyzed by my own
fears and doubts. It was the grace of God through the prayers of my friends
that set me free from the bondage of lies I believed. I know this is not the
end of the journey and I will probably have to reach out many more times but
the truth is – when you cannot pray, when you cannot walk out the truth that
you know, when you cannot stand to take another step, others who believe are
there to see you through. You do not have to do it all on your own. You can
raise the white flag, call it quits for today, and let others hold your arms up
in worship to the God that cares, that sees, that hears and that answers
prayers. James
5:16 says, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray
for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has
great power as it is working.”
