DaHubby and I married in 2001. We were 32. So, after the whirlwind courtship, the 11 months of wedding planning, and then the ceremony, we deemed it appropriate to jump right in with the whole makin' babies thing. (Don't worry - this is a family-friendly blog. That's as far as that chain of thought is gonna go. LOL)
However, as 2001 ended, we were completely obsessed with temperature taking, charting my cycles, and the like but still were baby-less.
Then, 2002 moved through spring, summer, and into fall. Still no luck and then we were mending our broken hearts over our first miscarriage. In the midst of that grief, I rededicated my life to the Lord and was re-baptized for the first time as an adult.
By 2003, I was completely undone again. I felt like God had left me where I was - childless and alone. It was hurting my health, my spirit, my mind, my faith, and (if I had to be honest) probably my marriage. I was depressed, gaining weight - which ironically worsened our chances of conceiving.
I remember crying at the sight of babies. Being unable to attend baby showers. Unable to hold a baby. Feeling like an awful person when I couldn't manage to be happy for yet another friend or acquaintance who was pregnant. I remember being livid at stories of parents mistreating their children. Every month was yet another disappointment. I felt like a failure. My body was betraying what I thought was my God-designed purpose.
I remember a call to prayer around that time at the church we attended. In the middle of praying about something completely unrelated, I fell apart. I recall laying on the floor face down just sobbing. My heart didn't know what to pray anymore so I just cried and repeated over and over and over "Your will be done, Lord, Your will be done."
I had been praying for over 2 years. Twenty-five cycles I spent praying for just one tiny miracle. "Let me, Lord. Please. I won't complain. I'll love him/her. Raise he/she right and to serve You. I've truly realized what a miracle it would be. I would never, ever take it for granted."
Then, the Lord granted my prayer. We found out we were pregnant in July. And, Flicka was born in March 2004. They said "take her home and love her. You'll probably never conceive again."
And, yet, I began to complain. Flicka was a colicky baby. Spent most of her first 8 weeks screaming whenever she was awake. I spent days wondering "what about ME, Lord? I'm tired!" And, even when God blessed me again with my second miracle, despite my whining and complaining, it was hard to feel grateful at the time as I was still nursing a 15 month old. After Pojke was born in 2006, I began to take it for granted.
So, six years later and earlier this week, I found myself undone again. The ongoing stress and strain of the last 2 years of DaHubby's schooling; the stress and strain of him being laid off in February and surviving on $350/week unemployment; and then the stress and strain of 2 very opinionated, also stressed out kids blowing major tantrums, ignoring me, and being generally rude - I just shut down...and cried.
"I can't do this anymore, Lord."
And, He reminded me yesterday..."But, you prayed for this."
And, I cried again. I was so embarrassed and ashamed before the Lord.
"Yes, Lord, I know. I prayed for..."
the temper tantrums
the hysterical hyena laughing that sets my teeth on edge
the non-stop talking
the unending questions
the pigpen rooms
the fussy eating
the momma body
"I prayed for it all. I also prayed for..."
the constant band-aid dependency
the midnight wake-up calls
the sleep deprivation
the stacks of sticky, dirty, stained laundry
the overnight "accidents"
the 2am calls to the pediatrician
the ER runs
the gum in the hair
the ruined clothes from marker fights
"Yes, Lord. I asked for all this. I even prayed for..."
the preschool attitude
the kindergarten "Diva" 'tude
the stomping of feet
the awkward questions in public
the embarrassments in stores
did I mention the tantrums?
the sibling bickering
the sibling big time baby-wrestling
the plaster ripped from the wall
the broken curtain rod
And, I even prayed for...
the little person version of nagging ("Mom? Mom? Mommy? Ma? Mumma?" Repeat ad nauseum)
the God-knows-what in someone's ears
the who-know-what in someone's nose
and, the last night runs for Tylenol or Benedryl
Help me, Lord.
Just like I'm thankful for DaHubby because I vividly remember my awful single days, I just needed to be reminded where I was before God provided me with not one but TWO miracles in my life.
What would my life be like without the Vikings? My heart breaks to even think about it.
But, to remain in a state of thankfulness and gratitude, I also need to remember that I can't do this momma-parenting thing all alone.
I need Him.
Help me, Lord.
Psalms 46:1 ...God [is] our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.