I believed in God before I had Sprout. My husband comes from a very religious family, and was brought up going to a private Christian school, etc. etc. Me, on the other hand...well, I started going to church with my friend S. in junior high, and through my tumultuous teenage years I actually developed a strong sense of my own faith (and self). Since husband and I have been together (6 years in Sept, 2010), I have found an even deeper connection to God, and have grown monumentally in my faith. That being said, I'm not going to pretend like I haven't had my doubts.
Whenever troubles arise, I find myself wondering what I must have done to deserve the bomb that has thrown my life into disarray. When I had my miscarriage before conceiving Sprout, I spent an entire week in manic-depressive mode. I'd be fine one minute, and the next, I'd be sobbing aloud that I had to have done something horrible to deserve what I was going through. Eventually, I came to terms with things, and decided that the old "everything happens for a reason" cliche should be my focus. It's funny, but some people really don't recover well from miscarriages - I was fine. Once we had the go-ahead from my obstetrician to start trying to conceive again, we were absolutely ready. And all it took was one try. I know that for some people, it's the repeated miscarriages that make the thought of even trying again pure fiction. I understand that - I really do - but mine just made me think about my whole life in an entire new light.
It took us over a year to conceive the first time. Not sure why. It could have been because I was on birth control for over 8 years prior, and my body just wasn't ready to sustain a pregnancy. With Sprout, like I said, it happened right away. I know the exact DAY I conceived her. During the first 12 weeks, I prayed a million times per day that it would work out this time, and that I would get to meet my little one growing inside of me. On Sprout's birthday, when she finally arrived after our long, long wait (even though she was 10 days early), I took one look at her and finally understood my purpose. What I didn't understand was how anyone who has witnessed or experienced the miracle of birth could still say that they don't believe in anything. No higher power, no celestial being...nothing. I'm not going to be pushy about it, because everyone is entitled to their own opinions and own belief system, but here's the thing: it is a miracle in itself that so many babies come out relatively unscathed from the collision of particles that created them. As one person put it "man goo + woman goo = baby". Isn't that weird? Having a child has made me reexamine the wonderment of human reproduction, and I have found myself staring in awe of my child time and time again.
No matter how much was taught in Biology 30, I still don't fully understand how our reproduction works. Don't get me wrong - I get it. Birds, bees, all that. Obviously Sprout is here, so I understood enough. I just...don't...understand. It is unbelievable to me that my child, who is smiling, laughing, and playing now, began as a rapidly dividing bundle of cells. Microscopic. Not so much now, she's in the 90th percentile for weight (and 50th for length...she's a little round). She learns so much every day, and is constantly changing. Between her birth, and the death of my beloved grandfather in January, I have a newfound hope. Maybe it is due to wishful thinking that life does not end in death, and that we have somewhere else to be that will bring no pain, no suffering, and new beginnings. I cannot help but believe now that my grandfather is in heaven, and that if my beautiful girl were taken from me, she would be there as well. If it ends up being a false comfort, so be it. I would much rather have some hope for life beyond earth than no hope at all.
Faith is what gets us through life. It propels us through new beginnings, new births, and keeps us afloat in times of great sorrow and loss. What do people do without it? I think that inadvertently, everyone has faith. It doesn't necessarily mean faith in God, but simply hope. We hope that what we do in our lives is remembered as good and just, and we hope that whomever we have affected during our short earthly stay was positively so. Sprout inspires me to live the way we were meant to live. Her birth came at exactly the right time. During my grandfather's swift battle with cancer, she made everything else appear to make sense. Here was this beautiful new life, arriving at the end of another. The circle begins again.
I'm not saying that people can't have their own opinions and beliefs. I'm simply stating that I look at my child and see pieces of myself and my husband, and it completely reinforces everything I thought I believed prior to meeting her for the first time. Every child is a miracle, no matter how they are conceived and whose womb they come from. So if you have a child, pick them up and give them a hug and a kiss. Let them know you don't take them for granted. If you believe in God, don't be afraid to say it. If you don't, it's your loss.
Oh boy, I've done it again. Whoops. Long blog. I guess I didn't have writer's block after all! Questions are still welcome. Sprout is crabby after immunizations today. Time to start the silly mommy show. Tune in next time for...I have no idea!
"5 Green and Speckled Frogs" song on it's way Sprout...
xoxoxo
Mommy
No comments:
Post a Comment