In honor of the start of October, I am sharing this #TBT post I just found saved in the crevices of my laptop! I wrote it almost one year ago, last October, right after we moved into our new home in Costa Mesa—when I was deep in the valley of the shadow of pregnancy nausea. Apparently I never got around to posting it, because apparently I was practically dead.
I love how the written word can serve as a time capsule. I look back now and I feel nostalgic, victorious, grateful, relieved. I’m so happy to no longer be pregnant, and so humbled that God met me right where I was as He formed little Hadley inside me. He knows all of our love languages, all of the time. And sometimes they taste like pumpkin bread.
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October 21, 2014
Today was a hard day. So filled with complex emotions and hazed by the grayish glow of extreme nausea. I couldn’t be happier, more grateful, for the little life growing inside me. For months, this baby was all that I prayed for, hoped for, believed for. Yet today, debilitated by sickness, stuck on the couch, hardly able to care for the daughter I already have, I’ve been miserable, and so guilty for feeling that misery. The nausea shouldn’t bother me! Raging hormones = healthy baby! Be grateful! Be grateful! Be grateful!
And yet part of me wants to DIE.
Even worse, I can’t tell people yet! Even at eight weeks, even after hearing the heartbeat, I’m so afraid that the worst will happen. Every time I go to the bathroom, fear smacks me raw, like maybe this will be it. The spotting that leads to the end. Something is going to run awry. Hearing the heartbeat is never a guarantee. I must brace myself for another loss. So I keep the secret, save for close friends and family, until that magical three-month mark.
Wake up: Thow up. That’s my new drill. Muster some breakfast for me and Emerson, something nutritious enough and as easy as possible and ideally not vomit-inducing. Then time for Disney Movie #1, so Mommy can rest and throw up some more.
Today, though, I actually had to run an errand. Like a whole, entire outing requiring showering and clothing and driving in my car down the street. On the plus side, my nausea medication was ready at the Target pharmacy. On the down side, it couldn’t appear in my hand. So I had to peel myself off the couch after Belle’s beast turned into a prince and get me and my own beast ready. I mean my own princess. Riiiiiiiight.
Getting ready these days actually requires breaks, because it literally requires too much physical rigor to consecutively shower, blow-dry my hair and put make-up on. As if getting ready weren’t difficult enough with a toddler, now I was choreographing a performance involving stretch breaks and intermissions. But I did it. And in the shower, I prayed.
“God. Really. I feel like I’m dying. This is all I’ve prayed for and I know that this baby’s from you. But I need some reprieve today. Some sign that you’re here with me. Some sign that I can get from one moment to the next without dying. I don’t even care about tomorrow. Just get me through this day. Give me this day, my daily bread, or whatever that one verse says.”
Those were the verbatim words that I prayed.
By some miracle, I picked out a cute outfit for Emerson and slapped on some Lulu sweats that were already feeling tight. It’s a sad day when your stretchy pants start to feel snug and you’re only eight weeks pregnant. Whatevs. Purse, keys, out to the car. Super slow motion, surviving second by second.
Just as I started to lift Emerson into the car on our driveway, though, something caught my eye at our front door. Gleaming and silver, lying on the ground, catching light just below our mailbox. Huh. Interesting. I grabbed Em’s hand and led her back to it.
“Welcome to the Neighborhood!” said an orange note taped to the foil package. I felt it. Warm. Squishy. Weirdly comforting. And it smelled of… DELICIOUS PUMPKIN! I turned over the card. Love, The Bielmans. One of my dear friend’s moms now lived down the street from us. She must have dropped it off only minutes before.
Target could wait a minute, so I let us back into the house. And you know what? Ems and I devoured that pumpkin bread. She giggled, I smiled, and for just a moment, I felt my nausea lift. Carbs will do that for you, preggos. In the moment of eating a starch, it’s impossible to feel actually sick. That’s why I gained a million pounds with Emerson and why I’m totally headed there now. [Insert update: I AM A PROPHET!] And it’s completely OK. [Really, it is.] SURVIVAL, folks. That’s it. Survival.
Sometime safety rafts look like safety rafts and sometimes they look like bagels with loads of cream cheese. And sometimes they look like a sweet woman just listening to God’s simple call to love your neighbor on a Tuesday morning. We eventually got to Target and the nausea meds did start to help. But truthfully, not as much as that pumpkin bread.
If you happened to read this post not long ago, you know that this isn’t the first time God has shown me His love with bread recently. I just can’t dismiss this as chance. In two very low, desperate, humbling moments, God chose to answer my cry with the manifestation of bread. And not just bread that I bought myself at the store, or that they dole out so nonchalantly at restaurants. Bread physically offered to me by people holding it out with their loving hands. People who were living by God’s most basic commands, in the purest and most natural of ways.
“The most important commandment is this: ‘Listen, O Israel! The Lord our God is the one and only Lord. And you must love the Lord our God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength.’ The second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ No other commandment is greater than these.” Mark 12:29–31
So here’s what I’m thinking: God wants me to know, foremost, that He hears my prayers. He’s got my back, and He’ll send sweet angels to help me when I’m nearing my end. He is with me, every second, to provide my daily bread: the sum of my needs. God was with me when I miscarried and He’s with me every day now as I strive to trust Him with this new life growing inside me. He’s with me as I face the tremendous task of surviving my nausea while being an OK mom. He was with me on that horrible airplane ride when my daughter became a demon. I don’t need to know that I’ve got all of life handled, forever. I love Olivia Pope as much as the next girl, but her competency can be overwhelming. No. I just need to know that I have the Lord, who gives me my daily bread, exactly what I need for each moment. And that is all I will ever need to keep from being brought down.
In addition to all that, I think God also wants me to open my eyes, as to how I can open my hands. How can I give bread to people? How can I be that person who makes a crazy mom cry tears of faith on an airplane, or in her kitchen before running to Target? Am I paying attention? Am I being a vessel? Am I living to the max of my call?
I doubt that either the man on the airplane or my friend’s mom knew just what they were doing for me when they humbly offered their bread. But they took the step and gave the communion. They provided the bread of life.
So here’s my prayer today:
Dear God. Even amidst my own struggles, fears, discomfort and pain—because we all carry heavy things daily—take my eyes off myself. Put my eyes instead on my neighbors, your children, the world. May I never overlook an opportunity to bake the bread, make the dinner, send the text, make the call, or show up on the door step with hugs. May I be a conduit of you just exactly in the way these wonderful people have been for me.
P.S. I love that you know just how much I love pumpkin bread. That was a really nice touch.
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Thank you so much for sharing! It is so true: sometimes we just need our daily bread to get through the moment. And the best part is to think about all the times in my life when God has been so faithful to provide just what I needed to get through those days. His faithfulness is what I remember each time I encounter those trying times. Great encouragement to be that bread for others too.
xx Kelly
Kelly, I love this so much!!! Such wise words! Most days I feel like I’m resetting and just need to ask again: Strength for today, God! And He is so faithful. Thank you so much for reading and sharing; means so much to me! : ) Hugs!!!