I think I might be understanding now...

When B and I lived in Indiana, we had the cutest little duplex.  We were young and married and loved to throw dinner parties.  I know. we were young and had all the time and energy in the world!  Oh to have some of that energy now just to clean the house!

So, one dinner party, we invited this couple who worked with B.  He was a nice guy, seemed down to earth and then there was the wife.  Ugh.  They looked JUST like a Barbie and Ken couple and she acted a little Barbiesque if you ask me.  She would complain about her husband in front of the group.  She told us a story about how a year before, husband had gotten her a blender for Christmas.  That was the big gift.  A blender.  She was a health nut and loved smoothies, so he got her a blender.  This gift made her so mad that she actually threw the blender at him while he was on the treadmill running one day.  Yeah. She was not my favorite person!

So at one particular dinner party, she was pregnant.  Not HUGE 8 months pregnant but like 4 months kind of pregnant.  Not really showing yet other than a little baby bump.  But she embraced being pregnant.  She sat in her oversized maternity shirt talking about her acid reflux, her back pain, and her morning sickness.  At one point, she made we rewash strawberries that were in a salad because she was worried they weren't quite clean enough for a "pregnant girl" to eat.  

I pretty much had decided she was an unpleasant person anyway, so it didn't surprise me when she griped so much about being pregnant.  Ugh. "You have acid reflux.  I get it!"

A friend of mine recently found out she was pregnant.  Two weeks later, she was announcing to everyone her baby news and started wearing big maternity shirts.  At the time I thought, "You are like three weeks pregnant.  Do you really need that shirt right now?"  

Both of those times must have made such an impact on me that I vowed not to be  like them.  I vowed not to wear maternity clothes until I HAD to.  (they are pretty ugly anyway) And I vowed to never talk about throwing up, acid reflux, or any other pregnancy related problem in a crowd.  

Yeah. Yesterday I broke all of the rules, I am ashamed to say. 

In the middle of the meeting, I started feeling bad.  Really bad.  But it was a familiar feeling.  Something I am used to by now.  Same sort of feeling I get when I drink any kind of lemonade.  Yep.  The dreaded acid reflux.

I couldn't avoid it.  I couldn't fix it.  I just had to sit there.  Now I will say that I didn't announce it to the planet..."Hey everyone!  I have acid reflux because of the baby!"  But when asked by the people sitting around me what was wrong, I did tell them.  Ugh. One step closer to being THAT pregnant girl.

Thursday, I tried on three shirts.  All of them a little too snug.  I could wear them but I would feel like a stuffed stuffed sausage.  I don't feel pregnant.  I just feel fat.  Ugh. So Friday, I figured what the hell?  I will wear the maternity shirt.  Why not.  Friday is a day to not worry about how I look and just be comfortable!  And HOLY CRAP!  I was so comfortable the entire day.  Maternity clothes are sooo nice.  Why don't they make stretchy maternity clothes for people who just ate too much for lunch?  OOOH. The best.  Even though I am not showing really, (I can still fit in to my regular jeans, thank you very much) I wore the shirt.  

I am beginning to get it.

And unfortunately, I am becoming "the pregnant girl".

OY.

Who am I?

I was reading Exodus last night.  Cramming you might say, for our church small group.  Every Tuesday night we get together and ask similar questions of one another.  Every once in a while, the question comes up, "What have you been studying lately?" and I almost never have an answer!  I am a slacker!  So I figured I would do some study and actually have an answer.  

So I started reading about Moses.  I mean this is a big major super hero of the Bible right?  He has movies made about him!  Although he will never have his picture on the cover of an Entertainment Weekly or a People Magazine, he is pretty famous man.  

So imagine my shock when old Mr. Moses, in the midst of talking to God and getting directions, stops and says, "Hey, don't you think you picked the wrong person?  Who am I to do this big job?  Do you realize how big a job this really is?"  And God with infinite wisdom kindly pats him on the back and reassures him. Sort of like, "Dude, I wouldn't have picked you if I didn't think you could do a good job. Duh."  Yeah, God talks like that some days, I am sure.

B and I found out in November that we were expecting.  Two pregnancy tests and we were pretty sure of the answer.  Since then, we have heard the heart beat, watched the baby wave and do back flips.  Each time I think about it, I get freaked.  There is a baby inside me!  Do you know what this means?  We are going to have a little human that we are responsible for!  A little human to take care of and make sure they learn and grow and become the best person they can be.  I am not going to lie about how much that freaks me out!  The magnitude of the freak-out is immense!  I keep thinking less about the baby part of this and more about the raising a human part.  What if I screw up?  What if I don't do the right thing?  What if I just suck as a mom?  It is possible, you know.  I am so used to my way of doing things, my quiet time, my schedule.  All of that is nul and void very soon.  What about that?  

I have asked God several times... "Who am I that you gave this baby to? You trust me?  Really?  Are you crazy?"  

And I never really got an answer.  Not till I read about Moses.  Even Moses got scared.  Even Moses was unsure of himself and his role in the world.  Even Moses questioned God.  And God just politely and kindly said, "You will do fine.  Just take it one step at a time, and trust me to do the rest."  

Just take it one step at a time and trust Me to do the rest.  

My friend Heidi was talking about shopping with her daughters the other day when they saw a friend of theirs with a very little baby.  The daughters both, being little girls, ooed and ahed over the baby asking their mother if they could have one.  Heidi joked saying, "SHHHH!  Not too loud!  God will hear you!"  

When she told me that story, I realized that God had heard me.  God had heard B. God had understood our desire to have a baby.  And God believed in both of us.  Each time I ask God "Who am I to take care of this little human coming in to the world?"  God always says in a kind way, "Just take it one step at a time and trust Me to do the rest."