MollyMadonna.com

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Processing. (26)

I have to admit, keeping these posts coming every day for the past few months has been an undertaking this go around. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed writing them (and certainly not that I won’t enjoy having them for our sweet honeybee), but more that I’m more taxed at the end of most days, and there’s more needed from me in all directions before I can sit down to record thoughts at the end of it all. That said, I’m sitting here tonight and recognizing again that this truly is part of my process when pregnant–the chance to write down ideas and thoughts and leave them somewhere to land is probably as cathartic as it is routine. Maybe this is one of the best areas of growth for me in pregnancy each time, just making a point to stop and record the season and the emotions and the moments I’ll be glad I didn’t just forget.

Today in church I was soaking in the feeling I have every weekend sitting or standing there–the way this little one moves around in my belly as the music plays, as we sing, as we listen to the week’s teaching. There’s little else in pregnancy that fills me up as much as those sacred moments, and I can remember them clearly from being pregnant with each baby. With H, Christmastime was so meaningful as I thought so often about Mary being with child and getting to experience that for the first time myself. I was always drawn in so deeply in church then, just as I am now, while carrying this babe. With all of our babies, times of worship have felt so rich; I can’t help but be overwhelmed by the gift of another baby growing in my belly each time. All of the words to songs stand out differently, just as they do in seasons of heartache or difficulty. To feel the depth of emotion in either direction has drawn me closer to God time and again.

As I was sitting in the pew this morning, I felt prompted to reflect on the fullness of that feeling I have with our kiddos around me and a baby tucked inside. It was another grace-filled moment of God reminding me to savor the space He held for me right then and there. Sure, there are a few more weeks to go on the calendar countdown to baby, but before I know it, we’ll hopefully file into the pew each Sunday with a baby carrier in tow. That will be a different sweetness, for sure, but it won’t be the same as the miracle of Creation happening inside of me right now. I plan to savor and embrace the coming season, too, and yet God’s nudging today was timely in recognizing that this day, right now, is something we don’t get back. It’s the only one like it. And I can see that and make the most of it, or I can squelch it and miss the blessing of it altogether. In church today, I was so thankful that God offered me the choice to soak it all in.

Today’s message was on one of my very chapters of the Bible, Psalm 91. I have read it time and time again over the years in moments of fear, worry or doubt. It’s a beautiful passage for so many reasons, and I loved the visual image repeated over and over today of God sheltering us under his wings. It’s just one of the most tangible verses in scripture to me. I love birds, and when I think about a mama bird sheltering her babies, or I think about how I feel about mothering our own children, that image is so clear and palpable to me. To be hidden in the shelter of God’s wings…that is a security that nothing else in this world can promise or provide. As we near another opportunity to welcome life into this world, the implications of that process are not lost on me at all. This ever-growing baby is going to have to go from inside to outside, and I’ll need to be a key player in making that happen. To know what I know about birth and how this process has gone for me in the past is very helpful, but it also raises extra questions about the unknowns that can come with any labor and delivery. I’m still getting my mind around what that might look like, with so many differences in our life and family and location than we’ve had in births past, not to mention all that’s different in a hospital setting now after a year+ of so many health variables in the world.

I can’t possibly know the unknowns, so I have to focus on what I do know and pray about all the rest. The most comforting known of them all is that nothing is unknown or will be a surprise to God. He has every detail written already, and He also has me–has us, under the shelter of His wings. If He didn’t, I wouldn’t feel the nudges that I do to savor a particular moment, to remember an interaction, to soak up what’s right in front of me. In His goodness, He is in the details, even as I sit down to write each night and often come to the table with little in mind of what I might say. I think it’s ok to say that God is happy to be writing the story, and I think it’s part of this journey for me to trust Him ever night that the right reflection will be there. I can’t take any credit for that; only God. In these days and weeks (and probably months) ahead, I’ll surrender more than I used to think necessary or possible, and I don’t doubt it will be for my good. God is in the details of this process and my processing, and it’s with His help that I can lay things down and trust–rest, even–under His shelter and care.

MM

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Writing the Story. (30)

All this time, I’ve been in what feels like the middle of a story. Living in the midst of my thought life, my spiritual life and my real, everyday life through these months of my seventh pregnancy, I have tried to look towards the future and can only see tiny snippets of what is to come. It’s been hard to let my heart go to the most hopeful place every time, though I’ve worked to lean into that as much as I can. It’s something, to be hopeful in a way that pushes down fear and presses out doubt. And I’ve tasted it, but not always, and not every day. Some are hard fought, while others come with a peace that only God can offer me.

As the days count down to August and baby, I am coming more and more to terms with this reality being what’s actually true. I didn’t think about the details of the day getting closer because I couldn’t. I could trust God past what I could see, and He’s done that work in me, but I couldn’t get all the way to August 20th or anything that comes after, not really. I’m starting to, and still it’s not without reservation. I’ve had all the conversations with myself time and time again–reminded myself of what I’ve heard God say, replayed what I know about who He is, come across scripture on the exact right days, always being nudged that what His Word says is true. I believe it. And the human part of me has still had to stretch to trust and believe that a gift this good could come our way and actually arrive. God gives good gifts, and I know this deeply. So what is changing in me?

Today, as I was driving, I realized that my letting go of so many of the details might not be my inability to trust in them or believe them. It’s that I actually do believe that God is who He says He is and that He’ll do what He says He will do. Does it feel vulnerable to believe this sometimes? 100% yes. And is it still worth it? More than I’ll probably ever understand. It feels risky to take God at his word, which almost feels foolish to even say. But if I walk into August believing and trusting what I’ve heard from God, then I’m also open to disappointment, or maybe even heartache, right? And He’s still sovereign in every detail.

A little whisper crossed my path today and planted the thought that I’m not actually walking in the middle of this story. I’m at the very beginning. We are about to meet this person who has grown inside of me since November. We’re about to break through the narrow space between womb and world, and to know–to actually know–this person who God created to be here for such a time as this. Beyond that, I’m about to get to mother this tiny human who matters even more to God than they do to me. That feels unfathomable, after all of these weeks and months praying and hoping and holding my breath sometimes, but it’s true. I’m at the beginning of this story. We’re just getting started on a journey God planned for us long ago. How could I not be amazed by this reality?

To trust that the day will come is a bigger step for me, even still, than I ever wanted it to be. There have been many days where I’ve just had to relinquish all of the details to God and set them down entirely, because I can’t go there, and if I do, it just feels messy and hard. But that’s the beauty in this. Things will keep going along as God intends whether I’ve overthought every facet of this life change or not. To not be in any kind of control is actually so freeing I can hardly grasp it. I don’t control this, and I never did. Doesn’t that make the story so much better? I get to be in it and to watch it unfold, but it’s out of my hands on so many levels. The details of that day to come are known to God, and nothing will surprise Him.

People ask me often now how much longer until baby, and I always give a ballpark answer, because I know the date on the calendar is just a date. But it’s also because I’m trusting my intuition that I have a sense about this baby and their arrival. I know what I’d like the answer to be, and I know that it’s not my decision to make. God knows this baby’s birthday. He knows the time of day that my labor begins. He knows who is there and who delivers this life and whether or not we welcome a boy or a girl. He knows how long it all takes, how I heal, what the moment looks like when we bring baby home from the hospital to meet siblings. He is the author of this story, and while He’s been writing my life for a long time now, this is a new volume He’s kept waiting for the exact right moment. It’s like waiting until Christmas morning, only better, because His gifts are the purest kind.

I’m so humbled to have a part in this story at all. I don’t think I know how to feel about that right now besides fortunate, and that’s a healthy place to rest. There are many details stirring in my mind, and while it’s ok to think about them, I can also let them go. He has this. He has me. And He has this tiny baby right close…closer than my belly, closer than a due date, closer than I’ll ever actually know.

Peace and rest for all hearts tonight, dear friends. He’s writing your story, too.

MM

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Hello, Summer. (33)

If you live in the midwest, I’m sure you’ll agree that the weather for June and July has been rather temperate and a bit gloomier than our usual summer fare up until now. Truthfully, I haven’t minded the moderate temps, and the rainier days have provided much needed moisture for the yard and garden while also alleviating some of the pressure to soak in every outdoor moment possible. I love being outside, but I don’t love the feeling of obligation when it comes to outdoor experiences. I feel that living here makes us all carry a deeper sense of, “It’s summer! We have to soak it up for all it’s worth!” than we might feel in a climate that offers more sunshine and warm days year round. So for me anyway, the rainy days feel like an invitation to slow down, to let the kids stay in pjs longer, to offer popcorn and a movie some afternoons instead of the usual limitations on screen time. I know my kiddos don’t mind it when the day calls for stacks of books and no one laying out a schedule, and we have wet weather to thank for a little bit extra of that this summer.

This weekend it’s evident that July has decided to turn up, and it’s beautiful. It’s also hot. I love summer weather. Most of the time, give me all of the hot summer days we can afford. Even now, please bring on the sunshine. Just know that I’ll be off to find a bench in the shade at some stage. It’s funny–I’ve left the house both yesterday and today feeling such ambition to conquer tasks and experiences, and yet, my body says something else a few hours in. Mind and body are one, but also independent of each other, it seems. It’s really in the sweetness of pregnancy that I share that; I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I just have to laugh a little once I’m over my initial frustration with limitations. Once again, God says, “Be still,” and I somehow keep asking, “Can’t I go just a little bit more?”

In a sense, summer is humbling me right along with motherhood. I am so thankful to have three kiddos who have genuinely been utterly gracious with their mama all these months, and especially now. Today we were a few towns over for lunch and wandering, and when I sat down on a bench and needed to stay there for awhile, everyone got out their new books to read and waited with me. I know they’ll all be so happy to have me return to a more active version of myself, but their patience is much appreciated right now and I truly need it. It makes me hopeful that transitions with the baby can be grace-filled, too, even if they’re sometimes hard.

C is showing his feelings about so much change in new ways, and they’re mostly just really endearing. He is so careful to tell me sweet things every day, to hug the baby and say good morning and goodnight, to remind me that we call this little one, “Honeybee,” and to sit in the closest spot possible to me as often as he can. I overheard him telling someone upstairs the other day that he could be brave because now he was going to be a big brother. Sweet boy! I just love him so, and I feel for him as he sorts out his emotions without even realizing all that’s happening inside his heart and mind. He and I are going to have some extra time to spend together this week, and I’m planning to soak it up for all it’s worth. This will be a treasured handful of days for us together–another fleeting season that’s worth savoring in every possible way.

It finally feels like summer and that’s such a good thing, because it’s also a marker of time right where we are and the days we’re headed into, too. August can’t come without summer arriving, so it’s another box checked on the way to baby. Whether or not the summer of 2021 will be marked with all kinds of red letter days for our crew, we’re certainly all looking forward to a few in particular, and baby’s arrival is at the peak of that anticipation. I’m thankful for the experiences this “break” season has afforded our family; there’s a lot of transition that could be much harder with calendars piled to the brim and expectations in full measure. Instead, we’re really taking so much one day or week at a time, which feels like exactly what we all need and as much as we can all handle. Again there’s heaps of grace in that reality, even when we don’t always see it. When we look back, I hope we can say that the summer our honeybee was born was marked by slowing down, making peace with stillness and soaking up all of the natural good that God set right in front of us, no matter the weather.

MM

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Naming Names. (37)

If I were to make lists of the things that are most helpful and least helpful in this season, it would probably be both a cathartic exercise and a good memory to look back on later. Not that I’d ever make such lists or name names like that, but you know, if I did, the “most helpful” list would likely look something like this:

Most Helpful Things When 8+ Months Pregnant for the 4th Time:

-Extra rest. I’m not sure where to find it, but goodness, a nap is a necessary boost some days

-Children who are willing to do a reasonable amount of chores for their ages, and who are aware of their footprint on a space. This might forever be a work in progress, but…onward

-Someone else doing the hard-to-reach dishes

-A grabber so that attempted bending can be avoided

-A rented wardrobe for the last five weeks of pregnancy, since just a few things fit over my belly by now

-Freedom to set aside any other chores or responsibilities and *only* work on baby/nesting related tasks around the house

-One last room painted before the baby arrives because I’m not to be trusted on a ladder at this stage

-A personal chef (this probably applies to all seasons of life, not just the very pregnant ones)

-Time, time, time, time, time

-Ample amounts of gratitude for and savoring of where we are, from all parties, because this season is sweet and short-lived, and I for one sure am going to miss it when it’s gone (even though I can’t wait to meet this babe)

That’s ten, so I’ll stop there. This is by no means an exhaustive list, nor is it meant to be a rant or anything like it. Honesty just feels good, and someday when I’m far from my pregnant days, I also want to remember what this felt like and what other pregnant mamas in my proximity might need or wish for as they grow their babies, too.

MM

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Heart Preparations Revisited. (38)

Today I came across my post from when I was 39 days before my due date with E, almost exactly eight years ago. The words from then are so spot on to what I’m feeling right now, so I’m going to borrow them back from myself here, with an addendum.

July 16, 2013: “There is a lot of time between the moment you find out you’re pregnant and the day you head to the hospital to deliver a baby. A lot of time. Or at least it feels that way, until you’re suddenly just five or so weeks from your due date and baby’s arrival is somehow coming up fast. You start to think of all the things you want to be sure to have done before the little one is born…of all the things you feel like you should do: nursery prep, home organization, deep cleaning, LOTS of baby laundry, more organizing, mentally preparing your other child(ren), catching up on play dates and correspondence, fitting in dates with your spouse, getting some sleep, etc. And above and beyond all that, of course, readying yourself emotionally and mentally for the big day and major life change that’s around the corner.

Is it possible that we can distract ourselves so much with the details of how everything looks and feels aesthetically, that we can miss the opportunity to really prepare our heads and hearts for one of the biggest and greatest days of our whole life?

I’m so thankful that God is slowing my pace down enough to find moments to remind me…Molly, let’s focus on your head and heart. The rest can wait if necessary, but get that part settled first…”

July 13, 2021: Yes. This is exactly right, and so true to things I’ve wrestled in these past weeks. The difference now is that I’m eight years down the line and I think I’ve learned a thing or two about where my focus needs to be. I’m still preoccupied with the other details, and I’m still nesting a great deal (which doesn’t feel like it’s to be avoided), but eight years is a long time to have spent working on my head and heart, and I can certainly mark some progress. I’m more at home in my own skin, more ready and able to advocate for myself, more comfortable being honest about what I want and need, more practical about what’s achievable and what I need to put down. I’m not sure if the people around me always feel like I’m setting more down, but my once non-negotiables have changed. I’m taking things off of my to do/wish list regularly and working on being ok with what I can’t accomplish.

Two more children down the line, life is very different. Expecting this fourth baby, there’s obviously a different dynamic surrounding me than there was with one toddler in tow. Our family has changed a lot, we’ve been through a lot, the world is a different place in ways. It’s just not all the same equation that it was before. Given this, there’s arguably still a learning curve, but it’s a learning curve with eight years more experience behind it, and that’s something.

Eight years ago, I wrote about how I was going to potentially switch doctors after some challenging developments with my original practitioner. I didn’t know then that I’d have a new doctor only two days later–one who has since delivered two of our babies and who is seeing me through this pregnancy, too. His presence and perspective have been a gift all these years, and I’m still grateful to this day for that season back then, when my heart said I needed to consider a change. I trust my mama instinct now more than ever, and even as I was learning where to find it, it was serving me well. I can look back and be confident that just as God was leading in those days, He is leading me still.

I can’t end this post better than I did in 2013, so I’m going to quote the last bit of that reflection to end today’s. It’s exactly how I feel again as I marvel at all that is in front of me. What kindness and goodness flows!

July 16, 2013: “I love these moments at the end of the day, when it’s often just me and baby here on the couch. I watch him or her move without reservation in my belly, and I am reminded of the miracle of all of this…the incredible answer to many prayers that this baby has been all along, and the amazing process that God has designed for us as human beings. How did something so very small and microscopic already grow to have such a prominent place in my belly? In our lives?

Nine months, give or take a bit. All the time in the world and yet, not quite enough to prepare ourselves for the inevitable surprises and delights of childbirth and bringing a whole new person home to love and care for from here on out. I’m working on getting there, with some handful of weeks to go. And when the day arrives, I’ll be praying like crazy for God to bridge any gaps left over–that I would embrace the day with zero reservation and approach this new experience with complete joy in every bit of the process.”

Embracing the patterns and rhythms I’m offered and hopeful to keep growing through the opportunity to revisit them again,

MM