It feels so good to be sitting down and writing to all of you again. I’m pretty sure I can barely remember my name nowadays, let alone remember how to write a functioning sentence. No, just kidding. I really just write as God puts things on my heart and so I have been waiting and listening for him to stir up something blog worthy. He has, people, he has!
First, let me tell you baby boy is doing well. He is growing and moving and kicking, and we can’t wait to meet him. My midwives recently told me that they have delivered a lot of early IVF babies, like 37 weeks. So my mindset has officially changed. He could be here anytime in February. That’s SO SOON! It still doesn’t feel real half the time.
So recently a friend and fellow pregnant future-momma was talking about weight gain in pregnancy and asked if I had gained anything, and I sat there and the most unexpected swell of emotions took place. I had honestly no idea if I had gained weight or what amount I had gained. I know there is now a much larger belly there but that’s all I knew! I realized that I hadn’t looked at a scale, not even the ones at my appointments, the whole darn time.
Let’s rewind – I may have mentioned this in a previous blog post, but I have struggled with my weight for a while. I don’t really know when it began. I can’t put a date on it or anything, but I do know that it grew and transformed and took up a lot of my thoughts and emotions for years. I have never been a small girl. Freshman year in high school I was probably my heaviest, and that’s when I really remember starting to focus on it. I did Weight Watchers with my mom and lost weight my sophomore year, but then it just fluctuated the rest of high school, and I was constantly conscious of lack of attention from guys and the way that I felt about myself. As college rolled around, it was a part of many things that I was working through. I got to a point where I had become obsessive about every little thing I put in my mouth, constantly regretting and questioning if I had eaten too much. Being at the gym or running outside or doing any sort of work out became a must every single day. If I took a break or took a day off, the anxiety was unreal. I remember realizing that my weight and working out had become an idol in my life, set way above time with my Lord. I knew I didn’t want it to be that way, but it’s like the thoughts just wouldn’t stop. I prayed constantly that God would just take it away, that he would take away the thoughts and that I could be done with it once and for all. I remember dear friends constantly praying sweet words over me and asking for God’s peace in my life. I remember tears of pain and heartache and the feeling of not seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Cole became a beautiful form of Jesus in my life. He loved me and had patience with me as I struggled. He never got angry with me or annoyed that I couldn’t get over it. He mourned for how I was feeling and prayed and loved on me that it would be taken away for good.
Now, I can’t tell you the specific day that it all changed or the moment that the Lord took the thoughts away, but he genuinely healed me. He healed me from that pain and constant nagging. And it truly was a miraculous change. Yes, of course I still have moments, but it is nothing compared to before. God really came in and said you have been faithful and you have seeked me and I am here, give me your pain. Because the whole time I knew no one on this earth could heal me from the pain, it was a place where God had the beautiful opportunity to work.
I am constantly in this place of realizing new ways that the Lord used our infertility journey to grow us and shape us. As I sat there texting back the friend, I was overwhelmed with yet another way that God was (and is) sovereign in our lives as we went down this road. The joy that took place as we started walking in his plan instead of our own. I don’t know what pregnancy would have been like if I was still constantly fighting mental battles about my weight and food and exercising. I can’t imagine what it would be like to speak life into my future kiddos’ lives as I couldn’t speak life into my own. God knew I needed time, he knew I needed to be able to see my beauty before I could show my children their beauty. He knew that as Cole was patient with me through my pain, he would learn to be patient with our kids’ pain.
So now I try my hardest to put God first, and the rest follows from that. I still eat healthy and work out, but it doesn’t consume me. I want to pass on good habits to my kids, but I never ever want them to doubt their worth or their beauty or anything like that. I never want them to doubt what they look like in the eyes of their Father.
Recently, God has been bringing up sweet verses to me about how he sees me and how he does and actually enjoys looking at me. That I am his wonderful creation, me. That I can rest in the fact that he sees me, that even as I sit back and lack extravagance of any sort, that he still seems in the quiet and mundane and finds beauty in me there.
“My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.”
Song of Solomon 2:14
This morning at church a phrase was brought up. The Lord is ALWAYS victorious. YES, you guys! No matter what this world brings our way, no matter the pain we endure, no matter the valleys and pits we have to travel through, our Heavenly Father is ALWAYS victorious.