I’m crying, because I’m tired of wanting and wanting to write, and then sitting down at my computer screen or in front of my journal and having such extreme difficulty getting started. I know what I want to say - my mind and my heart has already composed an entire entry before I even got out of bed - but I sit and I think and I wonder…why bother? Why would something I have to say be, in any way, important…even to me?

It also angers me, because I wanted so badly to write more about this pregnancy. I will be 25 weeks pregnant tomorrow and all I have written is that he is a boy, he is healthy and his name is Noah. I have not written about how beautiful being pregnant is, or how much I love feeling life growing inside of me. I have not written what it was like when I first felt him move, or how fascinating (on so many different levels) it is to watch my abdomen ripple when he’s restless. I have not written about how much I so want to keep him inside me because I don’t know how I can protect him on the outside, and yet how much I want to meet this little boy that has stolen my heart without ever really meeting.

I’m scared to write about it, because I don’t want him to be sixteen and reading these entries and thinking his mother is stupid - even though he will anyway, because that’s what teenage boys do, right? I’m scared to write that I have no idea what I’m doing because of all the looming threats that hang over our heads now as parents and guardians. Besides, I do know what I’m doing - it’s the parenting part that has me wondering (as I said to a friend) who makes this stuff up. A child will be dependent on me.

Me? A mother? Caregiver, yes. A mother…a mother is so much more. He is dependent on me on a physical level right now - what I eat, he eats and my body is a protective shield around his tiny, growing body. After he is born, though, he will be dependent on me for comfort, love, advice…protection. How can I keep the world from hurting him? From twisting the sweet, gentle boy I know he could be? It’s no secret the world is a harsh place, and I have to wonder if it’s selfish of me to have wanted so badly to bring a child into this world.

I don’t believe it is though, because at least by giving him life and a chance to live, he gets to see the beauty of the world that God created with all of its perfect imperfections…he gets to experience love and one day, maybe, the gift of fatherhood. I am looking forward to seeing his face light up with surprise and glee when he sees something that makes him happy and I am looking forward to kissing his boo-boos to make the pain go away (with the obligatory bandaid, of course) and just everything that I will (hopefully) get to experience as his mother.

It’s amazing what his little kicks can make me feel. How strong I now know I am, because my body is capable of growing and sustaining life, and soon, delivering it. It is amazing, the strength he gives me and our marriage and how easily he wipes away any apprehensive thoughts I have about losing my “freedom” because holding our son between us is so much more important to me than rushing out to the store at three in the morning (which I’m sure will happen, but not for the same reasons).

Why chocolate and coffee? Of everything I’ve craved so far in this pregnancy, those two are the worst. Cookies, chocolate iced donuts, brownies…I’m not even really a chocolate person! Coffee is next…caffeine is not only bad for the baby, but knocks me out completely so I bought a decaf original blend and it seemed to quench my cravings, but every now and then, I just about die for want of a Starbucks bottled frap.

No one told me how much I would love being pregnant. For that matter, no one really told me anything about being pregnant except that they hated being huge in the summer, and delivery was painful (duh). I really do, though. Feeling movement is so amazing to me, even though I once thought I’d feel akward about there being movement inside of me *other* than normal bodily functions. I even considered babies to be somewhat akin to parasites (though I suppose in a way, they are, it’s more of a symbiotic relationship because I couldn’t live without this child anyway).

I’m…rambling. I want to write more coherant thoughts, but I felt like posting somewhere. Maybe tomorrow I’ll do better.

When I created this blog, I thought I would write about our journey to pregnancy (among other things). I felt broken, and being infertile was one of my greatest fears, but today…on Mother’s Day no less, I was given a gift that I will never forget.

I’m amazed at how easy the idea of being pregnant comes to me - I thought that motherhood would be something alien, something I’d have to adjust to - and it is, in a way. I haven’t had a baby in my home for years. I have to re-learn everything, and in some ways, I have to learn some stuff for the first time because being a mother is far different than being a sister, or a guardian. Far, far different.

It’s magical, almost, this little secret I have inside of me. Even though we have gladly told all of those close to us, I can go out in public and people don’t get to know just yet. I can’t wait until my tummy shows the life growing inside of me - of course I can’t - but in the meantime, this little secret makes me smile. I put my hand to my belly and I know that there is life and this amazes me in so many ways. The miracles God can create - anyone that has ever asked to see a miracle needs only to look at an expecting mother. How is that not a miracle? I know of no one else that can truly create life in this special way.

We’ve been disappointed before - thankfully not miscarriages (and that, right now, is one of my greatest fears) but so many negative pregnancy tests and so many delayed periods wreaking havoc with our minds - but this time, we were surprised with this miraculous gift. We weren’t officially trying, but we knew we’d be happy when it happened, and we really are. It’s cute to see Joshua whooping in the car and kissing my tummy. He’s so thrilled, and being a father will come so naturally to him. I’m not surprised this happened now though, and not before, because before I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t ready, entirely, to give myself up to God’s plan and the life he would want for me. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be a mother, or that I wanted to close some doors that, once closed, could never be reopened.

The thing is…this time…I knew that I wanted the test to be positive. I was bargaining with God in a way that I knew would probably be futile, and telling him that though I wanted his will, I was so hoping that a baby would be his will. Granted, at any moment, this could change…I know this. It terrifies me, but at the same time, I remind myself to simply have faith. God will deliver this child if he wills it.

We’re probably around six weeks along…I’ll be going to a doctor asap to have everything checked out and make sure we’re doing okay. I’m so thrilled that the calm I feel right now is kind of unexpected - I haven’t been calm all day!

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you mothers out there…I hope you don’t mind me joining the ranks!