Changeable Woman

Here are some thoughts from Week 7 of my pregnancy – mid August – because we so quickly forget what it’s like!

They say when you’re pregnant, more blood has to pump around your body. Is it possible that I can feel that happening? I’m incredibly thirsty, inconceivably tired, and keep getting short of breath when I move.

This week I had seven friends round for a dinner party. Does it count as a dinner party if we ordered fish and chips? Of course not. We didn’t even foot the bill. When one friend left she said, ‘thank you for eating your fish and chips with us’ which was exactly what I’d done. (It was actually a great evening. I would highly recommend such measures when you want to see friends but are completely wiped!)

I keep forgetting things. The other day I texted my friend to tell her we’d eaten at our new breakfast bar (I know, I only text urgent news). Half an hour later she mentioned it and I asked her if she’d been watching us through the kitchen window. Rather a wild accusation! She said, ‘No… you told me.’ Embarrassing.

I keep crying. I was reading an email out to my family about a friend’s son recovering from surgery, and I burst into tears. Well that’s quite a reasonable response, if a little out of character. I also nearly cried when trying to decide if the aforementioned breakfast bar was big enough or not.   Definitely not reasonable.

I keep wanting to eat spaghetti hoops from a tin (I found some at my mum’s today – wolfed them).

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, my body and mind are falling apart, which usually only means one thing: I’m pregnant.

But despite all of this evidence (as well as the positive pregnancy test – I’m not crazy), I still worry that maybe I don’t feel pregnant enough. I’m seven weeks, which feels like a long time but then it’s not really.   I lost a baby later than this back in 2010.   I’ve always thought it would be great to find out you’re pregnant at around 16 weeks, when you’re beyond the “danger zone” and can tell all your friends. But of course, that’s never happened to me. I always figure it out at around 4 or 5 weeks, and then can’t stop thinking about it until I take a test.   Then you need to wait a good couple of months before you get to see the miraculous heartbeat on the screen, and explain to everyone why you’ve been behaving like a complete nincompoop with the energy of a 93 year old.

So that’s the stage I’m at now. I occasionally panic that the baby isn’t OK. I read about the harvesting of foetal body parts and consider the grave injustice of this world. Why do some people have to suffer childlessness and loss, while others who don’t want children are blessed with fertility? What a mess this world is in. And since this world is in such a mess, do I really want to bring another child into it?  Well if I don’t, it’s too late now. But of course I do. I already desperately want this child to be healthy, and safe, and happy in the Lord.

And then other times – particularly between midnight and 7am – I panic at the thought of having another person determined to interrupt my sleep. Plus what if I don’t give enough attention to each of my children? And a hundred other concerns. So thus far pregnancy has taught me to pray, and trust in God’s oft-baffling but ever-true sovereignty.

Reading this now, early October, I’m thankful that even when my moods, senses, family size and body shape change, God never changes. The gospel is still true and God is still just and good, even when I’m eating spaghetti hoops out of a tin and crying at the news, when I forget I invited someone for lunch or I fall asleep on the sofa at 8.30pm.

Enough nonsense, here is some relevant truth from Walter C Smith:

Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise.

Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light,
Nor wanting, nor wasting, Thou rulest in might;
Thy justice, like mountains, high soaring above
Thy clouds, which are fountains of goodness and love.

To all, life Thou givest, to both great and small;
In all life Thou livest, the true life of all;
We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree,
And wither and perish—but naught changeth Thee.