The 'Miracle' of birth

I find this photo amazing. With all the technology, it may not be genuine
but if it is....WOW! Anyone who doesn't think a mother has a relationship
with her child before it is even born, has got to be crazy.
Anyone who thinks that biology is random ...plain old silly.

As my friends and I embark on our 'Fat Old Mom's Weekend" tonight, I am reflecting on what it MEANS to be a Mom. I remember the panic I felt before the birth of my first child, thinking, "This living, breathing human being has to come OUT of me, and it is going to be painful, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it." I knew that that child was bigger than any exit I had that was readily available, and I knew, without a doubt, that it would hurt. Of course, BEFORE I got pregnant, it didn't really dawn on me what would be involved. Can we ever be fully prepared?

At one point in our lives, my husband suggested that we have another child. I gently suggested that we adopt, since he had sugically removed that option from our list of possibilities. He insisted that he wanted me to be pregnant again because there was just 'something about the hospital experience'. Of course my eyebrows flew into my hairline, and I replied, "Apparently, yours was much different than mine!" When our son was born (and John was there, so I'm not sure how this escaped him), I was given an epidural in an attempt to ward off the pain. My mother had been watching 'Baby Story' on TLC and was convinced this was the way to go. She saw women happily eating ice cream while the monitor showed she had a contraction going on that would top the richter scale. This was NOT my story.

By the time the anesthesiologist got to me , I was too far advanced, but bless his heart, he tried anyway. As he rolled me forward to puncture my spinal column, the OB nurse was concerned about the BABY, and kept pushing me back to find his heartbeat (which was faltering). That guy was persistant though, and tried and tried and tried...until I had about 7 holes in my back (John did tell me that, because I was so out of it, I didn't even realize it!) So I could honestly say that the BIRTH of my son was not a very pleasant experience. This was coupled with the fact that he was 2 weeks late, and I hated that because ,ladies, I am not late for anything.

My point is, two people can be in the same place, at the same time, and have completely different experiences. John experienced the miracle of seeing his son born. I experienced an immense amount of pain, despite the fact that I too had just gone through the miracle of birth. When I sit in church on Sunday, I try to remember that MY experience is not everyone's experience. The words that stand out to me in the sermon may not speak to someone in the next pew...BUT, God meets us where we need Him to, when we need Him to. They may find their inspiration in the Children's message, or in the passing of the Peace. We need to tune into where our needs are being met, because God has promised He will meet them. Sometimes it is painful to get to that place, but the results are the same.

Our journeys are different. We are different. Our perceptions are different, but if our goal is the same, we will all bring that to the table in the end. I'm so glad to be a 'Fat Old Mom', even if it means that I got the stretch marks, the saggy boobs and the ample body. It was all worth it every time I hold my children.