among the boxes, with my precious cargo
When it rains, it pours, and it's been a very stormy past few days. With our quick-turnaround move to a temporary apartment yesterday, making an offer on a home and still waiting (and praying) for the outcome, and lots of weird body quirks and ailments popping up (likely resulting from the above mentioned stresses), I'm just glad Baby D and I made it out the other side this week.
All of those worries that seemed to subside after the 1st trimester are back with a vengeance. Lost weight, difficulty eating good meals, being busy busy busy, aches and pains, and trouble sleeping have me worried sick about this little baby. Is he ok? Is he getting enough to eat? Is my stress hurting him too much? Will he be ok during this move?
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, or what you will wear...Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" Matthew 6:25&27
Every time I read that.
Every time I ask myself that question.
The answer is always "no." Nothing comes of worry. Everything comes from putting my trust and my life and the life of my child into the hands of our Father.
So here you go, God. Here are my worries. Take them and change them and send them back to me as an even stronger desire to rely on you.
Oh baby, we've been through a lot this past week. Your dad went to go find us a home. Your momma (with the help of amazing friends) packed up our house. Yesterday we moved into a different apartment where we will live until we start on our journey to North Carolina. You're going to be a Carolina boy!
I told your dad this week that we're making the memories that we will tell you when you're older. All the memories of our adventures in Missouri, living in the residence hall, praying for you, waiting for you to arrive, moving to a new place, and eventually welcoming you home. I love hearing those kind of stories from my parents-- it's fun to think that daddy and I are living those stories right now.
We all have stories, Baby D. Big stories and little stories. Stories shared with others and stories kept in our hearts. You are now part of my story, little one. The story that I am creating with your dad. The story of my life, who I am, and how I got to all the places I've been.
You don't have to always write down your story, but I do. I've been writing down my story since the 4th grade when we read Harriet the Spy and I started keeping a notebook. A black and white composition book. I only used a red pen that hung around my neck on a string.
That was long time ago. Since then I've filled up pages and pages, turning notebooks blue and black with my thoughts and prayers.
I sure can't wait to see the story that you write. Your adventures. Your hopes and dreams. I will get you a composition book if you want. If you're anything like me, it will become a trusted friend as you pen a story of your own.