Scared to Death

Many of us have probably seen this circulate through facebook/the web.

At age 4: we think Mom knows everything! At 8: Mom knows a lot! At 12: Mom doesn’t know everything! At 14: Mom doesn’t know anything! At 16: Mom doesn’t exist! At 18: She’s old fashioned. At 25: Maybe Mom does know about this. At 35: Before we decide let’s ask Mom. At 45: I wonder what Mom thinks about this. At 75: I wish I could ask Mom about this.

I feel like I need to make one for myself about feeling ready to be a mother.

At age 6: I’m a great mommy to my baby doll! At 12: I know everything about parenting. I don’t know why everyone is whining. At 16: I would be a better mother than that person. At 25: I feel I’ve forgotten everything I ever thought I knew about parenting.


 I am not joking—around 12-16 years old I really thought I had it together. I was changing my sister’s diapers, cooking dinner, cleaning house, etc. Unfortunately, being a “mother” is about more than that. And suddenly…I’m scared to death.


5 Great Things About Having a Homebirth

Obviously, I have not had a homebirth yet. I will be 23 weeks on Sunday, but Abrielle’s due date cannot come soon enough. But…as I read all these “mommy blogs” and “pregnancy blogs,” I find myself feeling extra, extra happy that I will having a homebirth. They are preparing for things that I don’t even have to worry about! So here it is, another great list.

1. I do not have to choose “going home” outfits for Abrielle or myself. We will already be home.

2. All of my prenatal care has taken place in the living room of my apartment. Yes, I am a spoiled brat. Yes, my midwife is wonderful.

3. I do not have to pack a hospital bag or worry about which foods I could eat in the hospital. At home, I will eat what I darn well want (which probably won’t be much, but that’s beside the point).

4. I do not have to worry about the nurses not reading my birth plan. I have every confidence that my midwife and I are on the same page (ha, unintended pun!).

5. I do not have to worry about what to feed my husband at the hospital. We will be home and he can eat instant lunch like always (note: I do not feed him that, but it’s one of his favorite foods).

Losing Control

I really like being in control of my life. Or at least, thinking that I’m in control of my life. I make schedules. I make lists. I keep a very good calendar. I dejunk frequently. The illusion of control was a lot easier to maintain before I got pregnant. We were living on two incomes, and I knew I could always put in a few more hours if I wanted. Although I had frequent migraines, they could be managed (to some degree) with medication.

Being pregnant has definitely been one of the more humbling experiences in my life. I have always prided myself on not being a picky eater, yet suddenly I find myself with a plethora of food aversions. Italian food: out. Alfredo sauce: out. Greasy food: out. I don’t have control over what I could eat on any given day, or what might cause me to throw up. On top of food aversions, I’ve lost control of my ability to push through exhaustion and do all my house cleaning in one day. I am lucky to get the dishes washed on a daily basis.

Those things aside, pregnancy has made me realize how dependent I am. Fairly early on, I had to cut back my hours at work. I cannot financially take care of myself without my wonderful husband working so hard to pay all our bills. It’s scary to not even feel like I have good earning ability. My hours at work continue to dwindle as my pregnancy progresses. And then—I am carrying a little person, a little girl, who for the time being is safe inside me. But come July, she will enter the world, and I will only be able to control so many factors in her life. I will be dependent on the fact that God loves her even more than I do.

Who knows what this little girl will bring? It’s out of my control. Will she have ADHD or ADD? Will she have food allergies? Will she be an easy child or need extra care and attention? My fear of giving up control (because I obviously had control to begin with….right??) has caused me to emotionally pull away from God. A part of me is holding back. Can I trust you with my child, God? What a silly question! The real question is: can God trust me with His child?

Our pastor is preaching a timely sermon series called “Marriage and Children and Debts-O MY!” One of the first “lessons for parents” he preached about was this: Our children are not our property, they are our primary ministry privilege. God has given me the privilege of being Abrielle’s mother for however many years He has allocated to her and me. I may be her biological mother, but first and foremost, she is God’s child.