The other day I was reading my journal from earlier in this pregnancy. I laughed as I realized that, way back in January, I was working out in the yard right alongside Andy and hauling rocks. I’d never be able to do that in my current state. Right now, even carrying the laundry to the laundry room has become a chore. I get tired more easily, the excessive heat wears me out like crazy, and I can’t seem to walk anywhere without waddling.
Can I be honest with you? This has been very hard for me.
For some reason I had it in my head that I would be the pregnant woman who broke the mold. I wouldn’t complain about things, I’d stay active, and I’d work right up until I gave birth to Baby B. For the most part, that’s a goal I’ve kept. I tried my very hardest to stay regular with working out, even if it was just 30 minutes on the elliptical. I did everything I could do, wanting to avoid at all costs using the excuse that “I’m pregnant”. When the older lady checking me out at Walmart said I shouldn’t lift the bag containing milk in it, I scoffed. When someone said I needed to sit down for awhile, I smiled and said I was fine. For the most part, I was.
And then came the past few weeks. My body just started to slow. I was tired more, and bending down to pick something up become quite the task. When I was out working in my garden too long, I started having regular Braxton Hicks. I had to stay hydrated and stay cool, or else a headache would creep in. I needed to start slowing down with my body, but I had a hard time admitting it.
It wasn’t until the other day that I realized why it was so hard for me: it had to do with my pride. I was so prideful about staying active and healthy, so prideful about what my body could do, that I couldn’t let myself slow down.
I’ve always felt strong. I’m not very consistent about exercising regularly, but I’ve never had a problem with weight. I try my best to eat healthy. I’ve always been able to do anything I put my mind to. And you know what? I liked it that way.
And then I suddenly found myself less than able. I found that I couldn’t do everything I wanted to. In my pride, I thought that I was becoming weak. The reality is, however, that I am far from that. My body is preparing itself for the big task of bringing a child into this world. It’s slowing because it’s spending the last bit of energy to finish “baking” my little one, and saving up everything extra for birthing him.
Yes, I may feel less able, and I may be able to do less. But why fight it? Why not embrace these last few weeks for all that they are, as I rest and prepare to meet my precious little baby?
I’m reminded of a scene in Father of the Bride II, where the pregnant mother and daughter are both lying on the couch, late in their pregnancies. They have the house so cold that the father has to wear a ski parka inside…even though there’s record heat outside. He’s running back-and-forth like a chicken with its head cut off getting them food, fixing their pillows, and helping them stay comfortable.
Up until a few weeks ago, I would have thought that scene was a tad ridiculous. Now, it seems all to real. And you know what? That’s okay! In truth, my only “weakness” is my pride. These last few days, I’ve been learning to lay my pride aside and find my strength in God, for only in Him does true strength lies.
And so, I’m going to stop fighting my body and let it do the work it was created to do. I’m going to enjoy these last few weeks of having my baby inside of me, instead of pushing myself so hard that I’m miserable. After all, it’s only for a season.