It’s a big thing when you’re growing a baby.
The first trimester all I could do was worry about having a miscarriage. They’re so common, and getting pregnant was so easy for us that it almost seemed too good to be true. I was so excited for the second trimester when I could finally stop worrying that something inside of me would go wrong and know that our baby would be totally fine. Then I hit my second trimester and had to give my head a shake because, duh, miscarriages are more likely in the first trimester but things can go wrong any time and once the baby’s born you know there are a million other things out there that can hurt it, right?
It was a humbling moment, realizing that I am going to spend the rest of my life worrying about this baby’s wellbeing. While there are some things I can do/not do to try and keep him safe, there is so much that isn’t in my power to control. Again, totally humbling. It’s also kind of freeing.
I can pray for this kid to be safe and happy. I can have little freak outs when I haven’t felt him move for a couple hours. The biggest thing I can do, though, is just trust that God knows what’s going on. He’s got a plan and, as the past year and a half of our lives have demonstrated, it is not necessarily ours.
I pray that this kid grows up to be a man of God, that he lives to be old enough to have a career and family of his own. I pray that he’ll make good life choices, but I know that he’s going to be human and just as flawed as Karl and I. I pray that we’re good parents and that we can teach him to learn from our mistakes and that we’ll love him when he makes his own mistakes, no matter how big they are.
I’m sure he’ll live to be 102, but he might not. I know that might not be God’s plan for him. We still have 7 ½ weeks left before we even start counting how long he’s been “alive”. Which is weird, because he is so alive right now that he can get the hiccups.
I know a lot can happen in the next couple months, so I’m trying to be as thankful for all the time we’ve had together so far. If something should happen and this little guy doesn’t get to make it to his 102nd birthday, I know that God still has a purpose for him. Even if he doesn’t make it to his first birthday his life hasn’t been wasted.
But I’m not going to be afraid. Because God has a plan for us and our little bladder kicking boy. And it’s a good plan.