14 weeks: unwrapped

For most of the 14 weeks I've been pregnant, I've worried.

I'm 38 and have wanted this child for a lifetime.

In the beginning my heart would go out of control with panic at the thought of losing our child. I'd breathe deep in attempt to resize the reality of my emotions and re-orient myself to what was true.

Or I would freeze with fear. And breathing was out of the question.

I couldn't stop thinking about it, losing our baby. I couldn't make the thoughts not come.
I'd dream I was bleeding.
I was so afraid and I'd cry and beg that everything be okay.

And for 14 weeks it has been.
But I still lie anxious in my bed at night.

Until I considered this sonogram.


Look at him ~ or her.
At rest, thumb in mouth.
No worries no cares no anxieties.
Complete peace.
In my womb.

And this little one's silent message unwrapped for me:

Be still. Because there's nothing you can do.

Let go.

And so, in order to receive this gift, I must open my hands and not hold on so tightly.

It's fear that makes me squeeze shut my fists~ not love.

It's being in control and thinking I have power that make me hold on to what I want~ not love.

So this little one whispers~ if you want to receive me, all of me, you'll have to open your hands. Closed fists can't receive anything.

And I feel that this is what he ~ or she ~ will always be telling me. That from the moment it was conceived, this baby wasn't really mine, or ours. We can care for it, provide for it, love it ~ but if I really want to receive this gift, I'll always be letting go.

From the moment he gobbles his first gulp of earth air.

And takes her first shakey steps. Away from us.

We are, I am, always letting go ~ so we can receive this gift, wrapped or unwrapped.



Me, at 14 weeks.

Many of the thoughts here are borrowed from Henri Nouwen's With Open Hands...a must read.

I'm linking up with Chatting at the Sky and Tuesday's Unwrapped....