Wednesday, December 4, 2013

A Letter To Myself About Pregnancy

Five years ago, in April 2008, I wrote a very heartfelt email to a friend who was pregnant and in the hospital on bed rest.  I was in graduate school at Vanderbilt, two years  post-heart break, two-years post-boyfriend, and wondering if God had a husband out there for me, and if I would ever be pregnant with our child.

I wrote the following email to my friend... and now, five-and-a-half years later, as I am struggling with tiredness, fatigue, the size of my body, and uncertainty about the future, I know I need to read my own words.

This was my letter to a pregnant friend five years ... but its also a letter to a pregnant me, from the lonely young woman, beseeching God, begging for everything that, five years later, He has provided in abundance.  In order to truly appreciate my blessings, I need to remember where I came from, and how faithful God has been on my journey.

Hey Liz -

After a week of non-stop paper-writing, I am taking a few minutes before bed to tune into abcfamily to catch the end of "Father of the Bride Part II".  In doing so, I've found myself full of familiar thoughts and hopes for my life and I wanted to take a second and share a few with you as you find yourself in your final weeks of pregnancy.  I'm sure in many ways I'm writing this as much for myself as I am for you, and I know we don't know each other very well, but I hope you can receive what I write with a tender heart and know that there is much love and hope behind everything I write.

I'm to the point in life (young as I am) where I am more excited to have a baby than I am to get married.  A part of me is terrified at the idea of marriage - trusting another human that much; the whole process of meeting, knowing, growing, trusting, committing... it scares me.  I am, however, so excited to have a baby.  And more specifically, in my never-been-pregnant ignorance, I am most excited to be pregnant.  I was the youngest of my family so I had never even felt a baby kick through a stomach until about a year ago (when a close friend of mine was pregnant and I happened to feel the little kick on my hand from the outside).  I can't imagine what it feels like to have a child growing inside of me; moving, kicking, hiccuping -- it's an honor women throughout time have sacrificed their bodies to experience; an experience no man can or will ever have; it is the only way life begins -- and I want to experience it so much.

For as much as I enjoy my studies, all I want is to be married and have a family.  If I could be in the grad school of "how to find a Godly husband" or "prep for future wives and mothers" I would be.  Some days it is hard to apply myself diligently to what is in front of me because all and everything I want, have nothing to do with the path I'm on.  I'm digressing, but the point is, I am being so well trained for a job I don't want to have for very long.

Why am I writing all of this to you, a relative acquaintance and sister in Christ?  I'm sure your pregnancy has not progressed as you expected or always imagined.  You may be rounding those days where you're ready to move on and embrace the next stage of motherhood - where you can walk around again, when you will meet your child and hold her.  I guess I want to let you know that what you feel right now, your pregnancy... there are women (myself being one) who are living on the hope and anticipation of someday feeling what you're feeling right now.  The good, the bad and the unpleasant - I probably have a very romantic and ignorant idea of pregnancy, but I want to experience it more than anything else in life.

Sometimes I think it's easier to endure our current assignment when we realize we're living someone else's dream.  I'm hoping to brighten your last weeks by telling you that, despite your frustrations and complications beyond measure, you're living mine.

Love and prayers.

Brooke (at 24 years old)

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1 comment:

  1. That is such a sweet letter to your friend... She must have really appreciated it!


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