I am pregnant.

Pregnant is not all that I am. In fact, pregnant is such a small fraction of who I am that I often forget. I’m startled when I feel a jolting kick to the ribs, especially the realization that they are already so high up in my abdomen. I’m surprised when I grunt standing up, lose my breath doing chores, or find myself waddling across the room. If someone asks me how I’m doing or feeling, I sometimes don’t realize until after the conversation ends that they were asking in regards to my pregnancy. I do enjoy pregnancy, and it is exciting to feel these little miracles moving inside of me (that’s my favorite part!). However, at this time of my life, I am so much more than just pregnant.

I am a Christian. I have a duty to defend the Faith: the Truth, the Life, and the Way. Mostly, that means introducing my children to who Christ is, living my life as a Christian role model to them, and showing them how to respond to sin or temptation of sin. Sometimes that means giving my husband encouragement or advice when he faces spiritual battles. I could write an entire blog, or even an entire book, on all the duties that fall upon me because I am a follower of Christ. This is the short version.

I am a Wife. Lately, this has been a pretty tough job. My husband and I have been feeling like we’re standing back-to-back in a spiritual boxing ring with Satan coming at us from all four corners. Josh is the type of person who tends to worry. He also tends to act impulsively. He needs me in his corner to remind him that God knows all and will work everything out for the good of those who serve Him. He needs me to understand and forgive his humanness; none of us are immune to sin. He needs me to love him like Jesus does. And, he needs me to need him, too.

I am a Mother. I have four toddlers to dress, feed, bathe, teach, and entertain. I swap their wardrobes out, when the time comes, through tears of denial. I know almost everything that goes in and comes out of their bodies; I set limits on sugar and know what is a normal “poo” for each of them. I’ve taught them to love books (letters, numbers, & art). I recognize and encourage their individual gifts and hobbies. Every day they are told that Jesus loves them. I study their thought patterns in order to discern the best form of discipline for misbehaviors. Being a stay-at-home mom, these things occupy the biggest portion of my time during this season.

The three things I’ve listed still only skim the surface of who I am on this earth, but for a time these are the parts of me which are most prevalent. And, these are the parts that my husband sees of me. This is who he acknowledges me as. Okay, so what? What was the point of this whole blog?

The whole point of this blog was simply my thought process in coming to realize that I have no right to expect my innocently ignorant husband to ALWAYS remember that I’m pregnant if I can’t remember myself. The whole point of all this was to say: Josh, I love you. I know you’re trying. I know you cherish me. I know you’re under an immense amount of stress. I know that you are more than just my husband, and that you hold that part of your identity in high regard. I know that you feel stretched thin. I know that you’re still trying to figure out who you are…who God is growing you to be. I’m sorry for my lousy attitude. I’m sorry for holding unrealistic expectations for you. These hormones won’t last forever, but the growth we’re experiencing together will. We will get through this together. I don’t know what the future holds, but we both know who holds it.




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