The good news: The baby is coming along just fine! The bad news: I can't seem to shake the morning sickness. Or all-day sickness, rather. Along with daily migraines, this hasn't been the best pregnancy I've ever had. You know, of the two.
But I'm feeling terrible for not blogging for so long. I still think of post ideas, but feel too (physically) lousy to do anything about it. So I'm going to try to blog once a week, minimum. It may not be much, but it's just enough to assuage the guilt without making me feel worse. Hold me to it, somebody!
And this one is going to be a little long. We have some catching up to do.
Before we got pregnant, we just assumed we'd have another boy when the time came. My husband's family is all boys (never mind the fact that mine is mostly girls), and I feel like such a "boy mom" now, so we just figured we'd have two boys. Plus, you know, I already have all the clothes and stuff. Clearly, a boy was the only option.
Then, after we got pregnant, it occurred to us that there was a possibility the baby could be a girl. I mean, it's pretty much 50/50, right?
So, naturally, I started freaking out.
My mom died when I was very young, so I have all sorts of unresolved mother/daughter issues. I was a tomboy because I wanted to do everything my dad did. What would I know about raising a girl? Heavens! I'm not prepared for that! Clearly, God understands that and would not give me a girl. I told God that the deepest desire of my heart was to have another boy. Whatever he did with that information was up to him, but I wanted him to know it.
We had our ultrasound the day before Thanksgiving. I was counting on being thankful for a boy the next day! The baby moved and kicked and wiggled around on the screen. I hadn't felt any of that yet, so it was good to see it dancing. And then the ultrasound tech tried to determine the gender.
The little one had its legs closed. Super tight. Hopefully this is an indicator of future modesty. Despite all the dancing and wiggling, that baby would not spread 'em for the tech to take a good look. The tech tried multiple angles and pushed and prodded my belly in a hundred different ways to get that kid to move.
And then it did.
And the tech said, "Congratulations! It's a girl!"
My husband and I looked at each other in shock. And I'm not going to lie—I cried. I cried like a baby. Over this baby. This baby I was so hoping would be a boy. That whole evening, when I called my friends and family members to tell them the news, I cried afresh. And every time I cried, I felt a wave of guilt.
She's healthy! I thought. Isn't that the most important thing? I'll figure out how to love her, I'm sure! I have several months to figure it out!
And then came church the following Sunday.
The pastor mentioned an event in India during which 285 girls who had been named "Nakusa" or "Nakushi"—which means "unwanted" in Hindi—had their names legally changed. They had been so named because their parents wanted boys and ended up with girls. Every time someone spoke to these little girls and called them by name, they heard "unwanted." "Hey, come here, Unwanted One."
And then I shed a few more tears.
I felt so guilty! How could I—for even a second—make this child feel unwanted? How could I do that? Not a great start to parenting her, I daresay. Who knows? This little girl may grow up to be a future world leader! A writer! A woman in ministry who changes lives! And I wanted to take a pass on her? Just because I was scared?
I now have a new favorite Bible verse:
When it came to presenting the Message to people who had no background in God's way, I was the least qualified of any of the available Christians. God saw to it that I was equipped, but you can be sure that it had nothing to do with my natural abilities. - Ephesians 3:7-8 (The Message)
God had a plan for Paul. Paul felt sorely unprepared for the task God set in front of him, but God gave Paul the tools necessary to get the job done. I have to remember that God has a plan for me, and part of that plan is now to be a mother to a little girl. He will equip me for it. Even if, right now, I feel like I'm the worst possible choice for the job, God will make sure I don't screw it up. Heck, he may even get me to like the color pink one of these days.
But even for God, that may be a long shot.
Is there something God's calling you to that you feel ill-equipped to handle?