The grind

As far as we know, I am still pregnant. Last Monday I went in for a draw and once again my numbers had shown exactly what they needed to. Today, I went in for another draw and should get the results by tomorrow. The length of this pregnancy has surpassed the last three pregnancies which gives us some cautious hope that this pregnancy will continue on.

I have to confess something though, the irony of all of this is striking. Sometimes in the past year when I have been grieving the loss of another child and at the same time struggling to get through my days with the 4 children I have, I look at my husband half laughing-half crying and say, "What is wrong with me?! I must be crazy to want more children! Why do I want more children when they are so very hard to raise?"

It is a very good question. Loving and nurturing four boys-four very manly (or as my husband and I call them: boybarian) boys is difficult. Oh my boys are very tender and sweet and oh so loving and caring, but they also have lungs, and a lot of brute force strength and energy. But add that I am the only one other than my husband that cares for my children-except for the rare occasion when the boys' uncle comes to babysit for a couple hours- and that I am the one responsible for schooling them and sometimes I wonder how long I have left before I march them all over to our church's school and say, "Here 'ya go!"

But the reason I keep on is the same reason I continue to be a vessel to whatever the Lord gives or does not give...I am not my own. And this realization, though hard and sobering, also is what has filled me with the true meaning of life: dying to myself in order to love and serve those around me. And now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go serve my littlest neighbor and take a nap!