So my sweet little last born daughter finally made her arrival. After weeks of contractions, little sleep, lots of nausea and miles of walking, my water finally broke. Contractions actually started on their own without the induction of drugs and the most beautiful and tiny little lady made her way into the world on March 9th at 12:32 am. I fought hard to take it all in…I knew without a doubt that this would be the last time to taste the wonder of seeing your child for the very first time. The last time to stand in awe of a person made so fearfully and wonderfully by my Almighty Creator, the last time to experience that surge of adrenalin and anticipation as your body works to push into existence a tiny being, bearing your image. While I hate hospitals and IVs and pain and honestly, I hate pregnancy, I absolutely love the wonder and amazement of bringing a baby into the world. That moment when they first cry is quite possibly the best moment I’ve ever experienced and it was difficult knowing this would be the last best moment.
So the last few weeks of her existence have been wild and crazy and sweet and tender and also brought with them tears upon tears. I’m not sure if I’ve ever really had the baby blues but I’m certainly experiencing a roller coaster of emotions at the moment. Add to that the fact that Maggie had an ear infection, Madden caught the stomach bug, Miles broke his arm, Maggie flooded our house (yes, literally!) and Kevin is going to have to have a minor surgery to remove a large kidney stone next week…well, it kinda makes sense that my emotions are a little out of whack!
But on a deeper level, I know there’s something shifting in my heart. For years, since childhood, I have longed for this season of life…pregnancy, babies, toddlers. My sister and I played “house”and “babies” more than any other game growing up and I knew as I changed from major to major at Ole Miss that in the end, I really just wanted to be a mom. Funny how God plants those desires so early. And now, here I stand…the season I’ve longed for the last 20 years is so quickly about to be in the rear-view. And my heart doesn’t like it. I look down at the 7 pounds of intoxicating newborn cradled in my arms and I would give the world to stop time. I see my 19-month old toddler, chubby legs and chubby feet and chubby cheeks, bopping and squealing around the house with her brother’s toy sword and I’m desperate to hold on to the image. I look at my almost eight-year old girl, my firstborn who has blossomed into this beautiful young lady, one who works hard to encourage others and bring joy to all and I know without question how fast the time goes…you don’t have to remind me. Tears upon tears race down my cheeks as I think about how quickly it is passing and how much I don’t want it to. I can’t stop it, time presses on and the days become months and the months become years before you can even blink. My newborn, my last little newborn will be riding a bike before I know it.
As all of this makes my heart ache, God has been peeling back the curtain to help me see that there’s a much deeper issue at hand. I’ve been banking my hope on this season and this season alone. I’ve convinced myself that nothing in life past where I’m currently at could ever be as great as being a mom to all of these wonderful little people, watching them grow, shepherding their hearts, schooling their minds, laughing at their stories and jokes. I’ve bought into the lie that my best life is now and in a few years, I will no longer have much to look forward to…no more exciting pink lines on a pregnancy test, no more ultrasounds to find out the gender, no more first cries, no more babies. But if I take God at His Word (and I do), then my hope is not anchored in babies but in the resurrection of Jesus Christ…which means, in a nutshell, the best is yet to come.
I have something far greater than ultrasounds and chubby toddlers to look forward to…I have the promise that I will one day obtain an inheritance that is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away (1 Peter 1:4). I have been promised that my God will bring me to His dwelling place one day and there He will wipe away my tears. I have the promise of heaven where there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Revelation 21:3-4). I will one day live in a city that has no need for the sun or moon or light because the glory of God will be so bright (Revelation 21:23) and that’s pretty good news for this gal who hates dreary, gloomy, gray days! Yes, there is certainly much good yet to come…and the promise of all this good is bringing about a much needed change in my heart. May God’s grace help me to be a mother who treasures the moments of the here and now and all the beauty that such moments entail while rooting my hope in the promise He has made to me…that the beauty here is just a foretaste of what lies ahead.