The Why of Beginning

So... I have been thinking for a while about starting this, and wondering what exactly I wanted to say. No, it's more than that, I was wondering how much I wanted to say. A while ago, someone sent me an article about how Instagram portrays this sort of fantasy life; you see the best parts of the day and the smiling kids, not the tears and temper tantrums, not the mess and the aggravation. But real life is messy. So here goes the real me (warning-beginning of a long blog post!). 23 with three kids is a lot. Honestly. I never would have imagined growing up that this would be my life now. It doesn't exactly sound ideal, but I absolutely wouldn't change it for the world. "For my plans are not your plans and my thoughts are not your thoughts" applies to my life in more ways than one. In a world of 40 something first time moms, skyrocketing divorce rates and just plain craziness, I am somewhat of a contradiction of what is normal. When Jason and I had Phineas, we talked about what was next- how we wanted to space our other kids out, what would be best for them and us. We had Cole 20 months later, and I though that was pretty close to perfect. I did not count on the extreme rollercoster of emotions that would follow his birth. I held my newborn and wondered why he didn't feel like mine. I nursed and changed him, took him home and introduced him to our life, but inside, I struggled with my doubts and questions. I remember saying to my husband "I just don't feel connected to him." And you know how the unknown and the unanswered can make you doubt your sanity, can condemn your heart. After months, that began to lift. Just in time for me to find out I was pregnant again. Cole was 5 months old and I was a mess. I cried. I drove to a secluded spot and talked to God, I told him I wasn't ready. I wished and hoped and prayed that things would be different. Then I told my husband. I prefaced the conversation with "I have bad news..." Looking back, that sounds awful but that is how I felt, and no amount of positivity on my husbands part could change that. We waited almost 4 months to even tell our parents, because I wanted to wait for a time that I could say I was pregnant and genuinely be happy about it. I wasn't at 4 months, but by that time, it was becoming pretty obvious. In the midst of the barrage of fear and doubt, I began to pray for my unborn baby. I had always prayed for my kids before during my pregnancies, but this was different. All I could think to pray was "God, let us connect." I didn't want my baby to feel unwanted. To be completely truthful, my feelings never really changed through the pregnancy, not when I found out she was a girl, not when I felt her move. When I went into labor, I wondered if there was room in my heart for another person. I had an emergency C-section, and then complications preceding the surgery, so all I saw of her for the first few hours was a quick peek of her over the curtain once the doctors pulled her out. Then, in post op, they brought my daughter to me. I stared at her beautiful face, held her tiny hands, and the tide changed. Immediately. God did that miracle in a moment. We named her Stella, and she is that- a star. She has brought immeasurable joy to me. I look at her sometimes and thank God for doing something that made no sense to me. Would she have ever been if I had waited for the perfect time? I don't believe so. I think God created Stella to change something inside of me. He knew what I needed, He knew my doubts and fears and every single thought I had, and He also knew His plan was better. My life over these last 6 months has been filled with a tangible grace, an undeniable presence of the joy of the Lord. I would say that Stella is my "oops baby," but I know that I know that I know with God, there is no such thing.