The Fearful Plunge into Parenthood

Pictures by Marie Photography

Last night we attended the Hillsong United/Lauren Daigle concert, a great family tradition, where Brendan and I’s families come together to have dinner, rich conversation, and intentional worship.  I love this tradition because it brings our families together through our strongest tie that binds us…our faith…and because worship always has a funny way of bringing you the most profound epiphanies (and blog posts). 

What made last night incredibly overwhelming was the difference that one or two years can make in your life.  When you stand at the top of the mountain and look down at the valleys you hopelessly trudged through below, you’re sweetly reminded that God is a God of miracles.  That he delivers.  That he intercepts on our behalf.  That he cares.  That he never left you, nor did he ever forsake you. 

Songs have a way of speaking to me in capacities that some people, some books, some experiences never do.  I listened intently last night to song after song that accompanied me on this journey.   One song in particular by Lauren Daigle was the one that carried me through the relentless fears I had this past year.  The song is called Trust in You.  Every single word is incredibly powerful, but the chorus was my recited prayer for months. 

   

I remember hanging on every word, crying out the lyrics, deeply desiring for them to be true.  I wanted to trust, but I couldn’t rally myself to trust completely.  Songs were my prayers, when I couldn’t pray anymore.  Songs were the words, when I couldn’t speak another word.  Songs were the peace, I couldn’t seem to find.  Songs.  This Song.  Changed my life. 

Taking the plunge into parenthood was something that was never an easy decision for us.  The fears we had were overpowering and overshadowed the pure joy we knew we would experience in raising our children.  The “what if’s” and the “will we’s” flooded our thoughts and conversations every time we tried to sit down and discuss the life altering decision of starting a family.  What if we don't have enough money?  What if we have to make sacrifices that make us resent our children?  What if we aren't ready?  Will our marriage change?  Will I be a good mother?  Will I be selfish?  Will I have enough time?  Will I lose friendships?  What if something is wrong with the baby?  What if we can’t get pregnant?   

Some things you can simply just talk to death.  This was one such thing.  We came to the simple realization that we will NEVER be completely ready to have kids.  If we wanted them we would simply have to close our eyes, lock our hands together, and jump.  Jump-not knowing where we would land.  Jump-not knowing what lies in store ahead.  Jump-not knowing all the answers to all of the questions. We would have to jump in complete trust and faith, that if God wanted us to become parents, he would make it possible and he would answer every question in its own time. 

Once you make that decision a light bulb switches on in your brain and there’s no turning back.  You can’t climb back up the cliff you just jumped off of.  You can’t reverse it and you can’t control it.  You have no idea what lies at the bottom.  That is one of the scariest feelings in the entire world. 

I would love to say that I jumped gracefully.  But I did NO. SUCH. THING.  I freaked out a little….ok that’s not entirely true…I freaked out …A LOT.  I tried to impatiently grab onto every branch sticking out along the way, only to find it all slipping away through my trembling fingers.  I lost control.  And I HATE losing control. 

We started “trying” with the agreement we would keep it private.  I didn’t want people to know.  I didn’t want the stares.  The questions.  The judgment.  The unsolicited advice.  I just thought it would be easier that way.

There’s a beauty in a secret that’s kept between just you and your spouse.  Only the two of you can share in it, experience it, and know what it is truly like to come out on the other side.

Naively, I thought getting pregnant would just happen.  Sure, we had friends that had trouble, but that wasn’t going to be us.  So, the first month, it didn’t happen.  No big deal.  We’ve got time.  Rarely do people make the goal in their first attempt. 

Then the second month…didn’t happen.  A little more disappointed.  Starting to let my thoughts wander.  Maybe we should get more serious in our attempts.  Whispers of fear began to fill my ears, I thought you didn’t want kids.  Now you do.  You won’t get pregnant.  You're not going to be a mom.

Meanwhile, Brendan is sick.  He goes into the doctor explains his symptoms and they want to run tests.  He’s presented with three options.  1.  Could be nothing, just needs to try some over-the-counter meds.  2.  Could be a life-long auto-immune disease.  3.  Could be cancer.  It’s the dreaded C word that stopped me dead in my tracks. 

Fear…immense fear this time…poured through my veins.  It’s not cancer.  It can’t be.  We are starting a family.  God wouldn’t do this to us.  But what if it is?  For some unexplainable reason, I had an overwhelming sense of peace that it wasn’t cancer. 

I believed in God’s truths.  I stood in his promises.  I was able to drown out the fears that were waging war on my every thought.  I could stand strong for my husband, not speaking a word of the possibilities we faced.

Tests were taken.  Results were in.  It wasn’t cancer, but it was a life-long disease.  Not curable.  But treatable.  Just take 8 pills a day, come in for routine check-ups, and you should live a happy, normal life.  Aside from it being nothing at all, this couldn’t have been a better outcome.  God answered our prayers. 

So since I needed more to worry about, I quickly shifted back to having kids after our slight medical detour.

With a heart full of hope and a mind full of positive thinking, I just knew the time was ours.  We stomped out the fears.  We defeated the lies the enemy whispered during that difficult month.  And we were ready to try again.

But then another setback.   

Brendan’s medication was making him sick.  It wasn’t working.  He was still having complications.  And one of the side effects of his new medication is reduced sperm count.  (Of course it was)!

I'm so embarrassed to admit it, but that’s when the enemy had finally won.  I had been able to deflect him in the past, but this just seemed to set me over the edge. 

God, what are you doing?  We finally make the decision to jump and now you want us to go through all of this?  Do you know how hard it was for me to decide that I even wanted to become a mom in the first place?  Now, I won't even be able to experience that?  I went to the extemes (I can be a little very dramatic).   

Question after question, whisper built upon whisper, and the fears grew louder and louder with every thought. 

Until one day I was completely undone.  My fears had won.  All rational thoughts were gone.

This is the excerpt from my prayer journal that morning as I sat on my living room couch in the dark and cried after reading the simple verse in 1^st John 1:5, “God is LIGHT and in him there is NO darkness.” 

God I’m afraid.  I’m afraid that we can’t have kids because I didn’t even want them in the first place.  I’m afraid we will have trouble.  I’m afraid you want us to struggle.  I’m afraid Brendan won’t heal.  I’m afraid I have lost control.  I’m afraid I have lost faith in you.  I’m afraid of this darkness that overpowers me. 

God I’m listing every fear I have one by one because I want you to take them.  My fears are blocking your light!  They are casting shadows on the truths that I know and believe with every ounce of me to be true.  God I need your light to pour over me, to shine onto the deepest, darkest fears that have paralyzed me so they will not have any more hold over me now.  I have spoken these fears and I release them to you.  God right here, right now, I stand.  I stand in confidence.  I stand in your light.  I will not stand in darkness.  I will not believe the lies.  I will not live in fear. 

 

Ten days after I prayed that prayer and after an early attempt of a failed pregnancy test (and yet another flip out moment), the positive pink plus sign FINALLY appeared a week later before my eyes.  I. AM. A. MOTHER.  I cried.  I thanked God.  I couldn’t stop smiling. 

But I also felt incredibly ashamed.  How could I have allowed fear to take over?  How could I have ever doubted God and his promises?  I was a little embarrassed by it all.  When people ask if we had trouble getting pregnant, the simple answer is no, not really.  But the little things we faced that I made into big things made me believe that we did.  I have had friends that have struggled with infertility for years, why did I freak out so much over just a few months?  I really had NO idea what it would be like to have to wait years to become a mother or to realize you can never have children. Nor did I show that I would even have the faith or the patience to handle that.  It was embarrassing. 

I stood right there in my bathroom, apologized, and prayed that my faith never waver like that again.  That fear would not have control over me any longer.  And that just because I coudn't control something didn't mean it was a lost cause.

In that moment, I knew exactly why I was becoming a mother.  The control I thought I had now, no longer exists.  I had to learn to live without control.  I had to learn to live in complete trust.  (I’m sure raising children will teach me these continued lessons over and over and over again).

As the day dragged on waiting for Brendan to arrive home to tell him in person, the fears slowly tried to creep back in.  But this time, they weren’t going to get the power they wanted over me.  This time, I wouldn’t listen.  Since that day, Brendan and I call out those fears.  We pray for the removal of them and we refuse to be held back  by them any longer.

This has been the most amazing experience so far.  I’m 28 weeks pregnant.  We will meet our baby boy in just 12 short weeks! 

Seeing our baby for the first time on the sonogram screen, hearing his heart pitter patter inside of me, feeling him move and kick, watching Brendan talk to my belly and smile as our baby boy kicks back in response to his voice, falling in love with a baby we haven’t even held in our arms yet…this…this is what God wanted for us. 

This was the scary plunge we were supposed to take.  Letting go of all control, being scared out of my mind, and being completely unsure of what we were doing, was exactly what God wanted.

The biggest decisions that you will face in this life aren’t easy.  Are you ready to get married?  Should you change careers?  Are you ready to share your story?  Should you go back to school?  Are you ready to start a family?  Should you start that business?

Here's what you need to know:

You will never have enough money.  Enough time.  Enough resources.  Enough support.  Enough qualifications. 

You have to be ok with not knowing. 

You have to make the conscious choice to walk blindly in faith across the carefully laid bricks in front of you trusting that where your own path leads…God is already there. 

It won’t be easy. 

You will doubt your choices. 

You will lose all control. 

You will, inevitably, become paralyzed in fear. 

But if you don’t move forward, you’ll never know what lies in store ahead. 

It might just be the biggest blessing you never thought you wanted or that was even possible. 

It just might be the best thing that has ever happened to you. 

Don't miss out on the blessings God has in store for your life simply because you were afraid to move.

So in whatever capacity you need to today….just jump. 

Take the plunge. 

Stop analyzing… stop controlling…and just jump. 

God will catch you when you land and place you exactly where you’re supposed to be. 

So last night, when I sang the words to my favorite Lauren Daigle song by heart, I smiled and this time joyful tears filled my eyes, because last night, I sang this song with my hands over my baby boy growing inside of me.  I no longer sang this song in hope of becoming a mom… I sang it in praise of being a mom.

When you don’t move the mountains, I’m needing you to move.  When you don’t part the waters, I wish I could walk through.  When you don’t give the answers, as I cry out to you.  I will trust. I will trust in you.    

He moved the mountains.  He parted the waters.  He didn’t give me all the answers, but he gave me the only answer I ever truly wanted to hear and never knew I wanted so badly. 

His timing.  His way.  That’s what faith and trust is all about.  All you have to do is jump!