Just one more hour. One more prayer. One more position.. One more.. These thoughts rattle around in my head and I wonder what I did wrong to end up here, flat on my back with the curtain up, a mask on my face, and an iv in my arm pumping medicine into my body to take the pain away. This was not the plan. It never was.
But that's the thing about surrender, it asks everything of you.
Forty hours of labor and seven hours of pushing mostly unmedicated, surely my baby would be in my arms.. right? Instead the operating room is calling our name.
Surrender. Let go. Trust.
This has been my theme this year, and really the past few years, if I'm being completely honest, even though I didn't know it. I never expected life to take a sudden turn shortly into our marriage with one health challenge after another. Infertility and a pregnancy overwhelmed with hyperemesis, homecare, and hospitals never crossed my mind. Neither did this.
All of it has left me asking, what is wrong with my body? Why am I not enough?
I know the answer to those questions. I know the truth. Nothing is wrong and I am enough.. But the voices of doubt still ring loud and clear. You should've done more, tried harder, been stronger.
But "should've" is a tricky word isn't it? It leads us down a slippery slope towards dangerous territory. It distracts from surrender by replacing truth with lies and less thans. It is a thief of joy. "Should've" has no place here.
Instead, let surrender take its place. So now I'm faced with a choice.. What am I going to believe?
I'm choosing here and now to believe the Voice of Truth. I am enough. I am loved. I am strong. This season is redeemed. All of this, in Him. It's a daily battle, one I'm still struggling with, but I'm not fighting it alone.
By the grace of God, this broken body of mine knit together a beautiful baby girl, and I say a thousand thank yous every day for this precious gift.