I was flying down the highway as quickly as I could safely do it, desperate to get you home. You were crying hysterically in the backseat, dry-heaving into a bucket in your lap. Every time I heard you wretch, my … Continue reading
I attended another baby shower this weekend. That’s the second one in as many weeks, and I have at least four more in the next few months. So many new babies. So many newborn cuddles.
So many months of waiting.
So many pregnancies. So many moms to honor.
So many months of infertility to mourn.
So many new lives to celebrate. So many adorable, little outfits to buy.
So many negative pregnancy tests to ignore.
So many laughs to share.
So many tears to hide.
So much to feel, it’s overwhelming.
My dear pregnant friends, I am so happy for you, but I’m jealous too. I am so excited to celebrate you and the wonderful gift of life, but at these times more than any other, I wish I could be you. I wish I could celebrate my own pregnancy. I wish I could experience the great joy of carrying life within me again. But these days are not about me. They are about you, and I am so happy for you. I am so blessed to be able to celebrate you as we await the arrival of your beautiful new babies.
There have been so many pregnancy announcements recently. So many gender reveals. So many baby showers. So many birth announcements. So much to celebrate. So many growing bellies. So many glowing faces. So many expanding families, filled homes, full hearts. So many new babies. Some of you are carrying your first child. Or it’s your third. Or your fifth. No matter how many children you’ve already brought into the world, I am so happy for you.
But I’m also jealous. I wish I was pregnant right now. I wish I was expecting another baby, my third child. I wish my son could say he’s going to be a big brother again. I wish my daughter could wear a sweet, little shirt announcing that she’s become a big sister. I wish my husband and I could spend our evenings debating baby names. I wish I could experience all the joys and struggles of pregnancy again—the bulging belly, the swollen ankles, the crazy cravings, the aches and pains, all of it. So many wishes. So many prayers. So much hope. And so much disappointment.
But I am so happy your wishes are coming true. I know how many of you have struggled—struggled to get pregnant, struggled to stay pregnant, struggled to decide if now was the right time to welcome another child. You have struggled and suffered, but now you have so much to celebrate, and I am so excited to celebrate with you. New life is always something to celebrate, and I am so happy to be able to share in your joy.
So if there are cracks in my facade, I’m sorry. If my smile sometimes looks a little fake or forced, I’m sorry. If my hugs are occasionally a little weak, I’m sorry.
I really am so happy for you and consider myself blessed to be able to celebrate with you, but from time to time, my jealousy peaks out. It whispers of those dreams I have, those wishes I have made that have not come true for me. But my joy for you is real. I am so happy for you, and the dream of my children one day playing with your children gives me hope. I have so many dreams for us.
When I see your pregnant belly and your healthy glow, I choose to celebrate you. I choose to focus on you, and when temptation strikes, I choose to focus on the joys of my own past pregnancies. When I attend your baby showers and gender reveals, I choose to celebrate you and to remember my own showers with joy. When I hold your newborn babies in my arms, I choose to celebrate your baby and to relish that newborn baby smell. I choose to be joyful. I choose to be happy. I choose to focus on the two beautiful children I’ve already been given rather than the ones I hope to have in the future. So to my dear pregnant friends, I am so happy for you.
I did a lot of dating when I was a teenager, but I was only in one long-term relationship before I started dating my husband. I’m not proud of the fact that I went on lots of dates, but rarely with the same guy more than once or twice. If any of those great guys are out there reading this, I apologize for my immaturity. Clearly, I wasn’t quite ready to be in a committed relationship when we dated.
Now that I have my own children, I’m thinking ahead to when they start dating. I want them to have a healthier experience than I did and I know that comes from laying some groundwork. I also know they’ll start talking about it with friends way sooner than their first date. Here are 5 teenage dating tips you can use well before your kids are old enough to date.
I have a bit of a confession to make. I didn’t have a very strong relationship with Mary until just recently, and I’m honestly still working on it. When I began to take my faith seriously in high school, I … Continue reading
I grew up in an allowance-giving household. For $3 a week, I was in charge of feeding the dog, setting the table, and cleaning my half of the room I shared with my sister. I took my job seriously, and … Continue reading
Most statistics on pornography say the average age of a child’s first exposure is 11 years old. New research from the security technology company Bitdefender has reported that children under the age of 10 now account for 22 percent of … Continue reading
In my years as a youth minister, I have seen way too many mothers fail to control everything about their children. I’ve known mothers who choose their teens’ clothes, who email teachers to argue about their children’s failing grades, who … Continue reading
Another negative pregnancy test. Another period. Another cycle begins. Another hope for a child ends. I mourn my loss quietly in the bathroom, stifling my sobs so I don’t wake up my husband in the next room. When I am … Continue reading
My son is incredibly sensitive. It’s a beautiful trait, but his sensitivity can make life very difficult at times. He’s easily hurt, whines quite a bit, and breaks down into tears at least once a day. But his sensitivity also … Continue reading
My husband likes to tell the story of the first time he realized that getting a time-out was just an opportunity to play with his toys in the privacy of his own room. Getting punished just didn’t seem so bad … Continue reading