When I found out I was expecting my first child, I remember wondering if it was really true. Was I really going to have a baby? I didn’t look any different nor did I feel any different! And because I didn’t really feel pregnant, I didn’t really believe it. I think it began to sink in when I had my first ultrasound. Until that point I had explained the nausea as just a result of something I had eaten that didn’t agree with me. Of course the frequent trips to the bathroom were because of all the water I was drinking. And I was tired because, well, maybe I just wasn’t sleeping well. I had an explanation for everything — until that first ultrasound. There was no other way to explain a fetus swimming around in my uterus!
As the months passed, I worried about the health of my baby, how big I was going to get, would I be able to lose the baby weight, and how I would get through the pain of childbirth. The thought of holding a baby in my arms was exhilarating, but as time elapsed, fear and anxiety overcame me. I remember worrying that my child would have six fingers, be blind, or far worse, stillborn. Thoughts like these kept me up at night.
When she finally arrived, I realized that my constant fear and worry spoke volumes about my faith. Why was I worrying as though I had no God to rely on? As I looked down into her precious face a few hours after she was born, I couldn’t help but scold myself for doubting that God would make her prefect in His eyes.
Now when I am going through any transition in my life, I remember that even though I can’t see what the end result will be, I know that God can; and He is constantly present through my changes. My job is to put on my seatbelt and enjoy the ride because He is driving.
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