For the past several weeks I’ve been listening to Tasha Cobbs, Gracefully Broken on constant repeat. I’m in my third trimester of pregnancy with only nine weeks left before I meet my little boy. Gracefully Broken, is how I would define this journey into motherhood.
Before pregnancy, I was very active; always riding my bike, working out, hiking steep mountains, traveling–the list goes on and on. I was always doing something. Hubby and I were always on a MicNilly Adventure. When I became pregnant, everything changed.
Almost everything I loved to do became embellished with constraints. It was like I started a new process of becoming that I consistently found myself wrestling. It was bizarre because on the one hand being pregnant was a blessing, but on the other side of the coin, I had to find myself somehow within my new limitations. And I must admit at the beginning stages of pregnancy it was tough redefining routines and overall just the way in which I thought about things. I always had to be aware of the life that was growing inside of me.
Eventually, I got to a place where I surrendered the freedoms of my past (life before pregnancy) to embrace my hidden treasure wholeheartedly. In my process of complete surrender, I’ve drawn closer, like never before, to my mother. Saturday mornings are our chat days. She will often share stories about me and my siblings I never was aware of before. Through her stories, she eases my many anxieties. Reassuring me at the end of it all, I’ll look back at this time in my life with gladness. The process of life is like a never-ending cycle. It doesn’t matter how old you get, the people that were always there from the beginning will almost always be there at the end.
My mom just recently immigrated to the United States when she became pregnant with my older sister. My mom was apart from her family during her first pregnancy. It was just her and my dad. Fortunately, they established strong relationships within their church, and that’s what kept her sane throughout her first pregnancy. Years, decades later, her second child is experiencing the same thing in a foreign land. It’s beautiful that my mother can still find my heart, navigate through my thoughts, even though I am thousands of miles away. What makes these precious moments with my mom over the phone so special is she speaks to me with so much grace, admiration, and love.
So, as I reflect on my beginning stages of pregnancy to my current stage–I am so glad I had to get to a place of complete surrender. I am grateful that God had to deconstruct my independence entirely for me to be open to what this new level could and would teach me. There is a reason why pregnancy takes nine months. As the child develops within the cocoon of the womb, the woman is gracefully woven into a mother. Once the child evolves out of the darkness of the womb, gracefully broken, seeking his mother’s voice, comfort, and smell. They both blossom with unconditional love towards one another. Carrying life is a beautiful masterpiece that can only be painted and told by the God of all creation. Yes, I’ve been gracefully broken, and I am beyond grateful for it. We are all in the process of becoming. I just live to speak mine out loud.
Saturday, September 23rd, 2017