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  • Randi

Stilettos for Sneakers

Stilettos (aka the surface level stuff)

In surviving my ninth month of pregnancy, which has still been super easy (compared to most), I’m starting to feel the literal weight of this grand adventure. Getting out of bed or the recliner takes an unreasonable amount of effort. On average, I still exercise four times a week, and I can still touch my toes and hold balance poses in yoga. Yet nonsensically, most days I need assistance tying my sneakers. Speaking of sneakers, when I walk by a shoe store, it’s them that I covet, not the pretty 4″ heels that I scrunch my nose up at the thought of wearing. Sounds insignificant enough, but for the first time in my life I’m choosing practical comfort over fashion. (Oh dear Lord, what is motherhood turning me into?)

Beyond that, the most recent and obnoxious development has been with my internal alarm clock going off at 3:00 am every morning. Thank you developing maternal instincts, but if it’s all the same to you I would rather enjoy a full night’s sleep while I can. So this morning I laid in bed, trying to decide whether I was going to keep counting sheep or just get up and get a bowl of cereal because I was starving. Instead I started writing this blog post in my head, hoping in vain that I’d remember all the insightful points. To be honest, I’ve written about four blog posts that never actually made it to this site for who knows what reason? Maybe because I’m gearing up for this “survival mode” my friends tell me I’m about to live in where if it isn’t a vital necessity, it doesn’t need to happen.

Sneakers (aka the deeper stuff)

With only about two more weeks before little man makes his grand entrance into this world, we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be. But instead of writing about how ready I am, I want to talk about my fears. I’m surprisingly not afraid of the labor and delivery part at all, or at least I’m telling myself that I’m not, mostly because there’s not a thing I can do about any of that. I can’t avoid it (um, hello, baby needs to come out!) and I can’t control it (see, I am growing!). I’ve never been admitted into the hospital and I’ve never even had an IV. Yet still, my fears rest mainly in the internal, because the internal things are what will truly affect my family.

Fear # 1 : Change My Marriage

The benefit of having been married eight years before having a child is that our marriage is strong and unified. We’ve experienced joys and hardships, we’ve made memories, we’ve bonded. But the challenge is now in the transition. We can do “us” pretty well. But throwing another person into the mix complicates things. Despite what I’m sure all our friends were convinced of all these years, it wasn’t just us because we were selfish sloths who didn’t want to share life with a child. It was because we felt complete in our union, until God told us otherwise. What will this look like for us?

Fear # 2 : Change My Identity

I am Daughter of Christ, Wife, Friend, Servant, Writer, Fitness-Fanatic, Missionary, Adventure-Seeker, Traveler. And while I’ve learned to try and be all of these things simultaneously, now I’m also going to be Mom. And I have no idea how to be that. But that isn’t what scares me. What scares me is learning the balance of all those things. Just because I become a mom, doesn’t mean I stop being all of those other things. And I’ve witnessed my fair share of girlfriends who have. But what will this look like for me?

Fear # 3 : Generational Curses

I deeply love my family, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that there were countless times growing up that I wished my childhood was different. I witnessed life in prison, substance abuse, verbal and physical abuse, affairs, betrayals, and addictions. And while I believe seeing those sorrows rule loved ones’ lives uniquely crafted me into the strong and independent woman that I am, I also am decidedly sure that those generational curses will end with me. The spiritual bondage passed down to my parents will not be passed down to my son. But watching my son live without a relationship with some of his blood relatives will be very hard, and again I find myself wishing things were different. So what will this look like for him?

Difficulties mastered are opportunities won. (Winston Churchill)

In spite of all my fears, I am excited about what this next chapter has in store. The next time I write I will hopefully have a snoozing baby next to me.

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