All these things are swimming around in my head. A baby is swimming around in my tummy. Hum. I’m going to ramble for a bit.
A friend of mine is just a few weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy. Last Friday she delivered preterm. A little boy. Apparently there was a problem with the cord not transferring nutrients from the placenta. While he was 27 weeks when delivered, his development was more in the 23 week mark. Because of the cord issue they decided he had a better chance out here than in there. The doctor believed that leaving him in the womb would be fatal within a day or two.
He must be so small.
I’m going to be in that part of the bay Friday and will hopefully get a chance to check on the parents and child. It will be good to be there and get a chance to pray for him. I don’t know that physical distance makes a difference in prayer… the bible talks about laying hands on people… but there is something human in the connection that makes.
My little one is doing ok, as far as I know. She’s getting big enough that I can feel the smaller movements. The shifts and turns. It has become a comfort to feel her. Talk to her. To have her respond to me. There’s so much that is tied to her. Dreams that I’ve been having recently. A dream that I had in the past. Despite all that, my Mom reminded me this morning that all she has to do right now is be a baby. To grow, stay healthy and be a child. It was a good reminder and it eased my heart.
It’s been placed on my heart that her name has to mean strength. Or something related. So the search continues.
Yesterday was going to be an important day for the nursery. Mark was finally going to put the crib together. Sadly, a side piece had split in shipping and everything had to halt there. I knew I should have unpacked the box when it was delivered. I chose not to because Mark wasn’t going to put it together until that weekend (which was delayed, obviously) and I didn’t want to temp myself to find an alternate way of assembling the thing. So now, I have to wait for at least a week for the replacement to come in. Blah. Yesterday I was quite annoyed. Luckily it was rather short lived, heh.
I’m trying to grow as a person. To be less selfish. The most difficult area for me is my marriage. To give and not have expectations of anything in return. My husband has some needs, some issues, and other things which are yet to be classified. I have to help/support/aide/etc in these things. I have to give him what he needs without expecting anything back. I can’t weigh my own input into this relationship based upon his output. How is that managed? How can I continue to pour out without being poured into? If I perceive that my needs are not being met, can I, in turn, meet his?
The only way to do this, is to be poured into. My only consistent source is God. People fail. They too have their selfish issues. They forget to call. They flake. They make mistakes. They don’t pay attention. It’s just traits that make us human (and in that, they are beautiful). If I lean upon God and allow Him to fill me, then there will be more than enough for me to provide for my husband. More than enough for me to provide for my child. More than enough for me to provide for whomever and whatever gets placed in my path.
He is the source of my strength. He is the source of my peace and my joy. Perhaps not happiness, but always there must be a joy.
Recently two people from my past told me how different I am. It wasn’t in a good way… at least, I didn’t take it that way. I’ve grown up. I’m not the free spirit they remember. To quote one “we haven’t spoken in so long – it is not the Stina I remember, so carefree, – it’s like I’m reading someone else’s blog.” The other was my ex. When I told him I was pregnant we hadn’t really been caught up on each other’s lives. I filled him in on the past year, including my miscarriage. He said I wasn’t the free spirit he knew.
It’s not possible to avoid change (and it shouldn’t be avoided). Change is good, in its own right. What constitutes that change and its effects are what have the potential to be negative. Growing up is good. Being more responsible is good. Experience is good. But at what cost? My carefree free-spirit personality was something I valued about myself. It was a core to my personal identity. It got me into trouble sometimes. It caused me to hurt people sometimes (not intentionally). But it was me. It defined me and how everyone saw me. It was how I coped with all of the crap that happened in my life.
If I don’t have to that cope… how am I? How am I dealing with the waves that come at me without end? The pains, the hurts, the disappointments, the death, the struggle. Even the joys. How do I process those if I can’t let them go into the wind from a green hillside? How do I breathe?
Does this too have to come from God?
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