Unexpected Pregnancy and God's Sovereignty: Crying

For many non-Christians, an unexpected pregnancy can be met with more honesty. It is acknowledged as unexpected and acknowledged as a difficult thing to now face. Often, too difficult a thing to face.

But many Christians, who (rightly!) see children as a blessing from God. As such, it seems that they often aren't honest with themselves or with others about the completely unexpected new reality they now face as parents. This was certainly my reality. I was so confident in the fact that the new baby growing inside me was a wonderful new creation given to me by God that I really struggled to let myself acknowledge that it was a gift I was completely unprepared to accept. Or accept with immediate joy and thanksgiving and contentment. So I just cried. I cried more throughout my first pregnancy than I had ever cried in my entire life up until that point. It was very rare for a day to go by with out tears.

I have a very vivid memory of sitting in the car with my friend, Hilary, in the parking lot of the school we were both working at. It was pouring down rain, but I was crying about as much as it was raining. I could hardly talk. And she sat there with me and let me cry, despite probably having places to go and things to do (I had, after all, followed her to her car and let myself in as she was trying to leave) and, most of all, despite struggling with trusting God regarding her own fertility. (This deserves its own post, but my three friends who were themselves struggling to get pregnant showed me such great love. I had what they wanted but couldn't have yet and I wasn't grateful. And they just let me cry to them and made me feel loved and heard.)

At some point, after I announced my pregnancy and then cried for ten minutes, I told her that I didn't know how to tell anyone (especially at the school) because I was afraid of giving a follow up response. What if they asked me if I was excited? (And yes, this is EXACTLY what happened about a hundred million times. I basically lied a lot.) I couldn't articulate how guilty I felt about not being excited, but Hilary told that our mutual friend's sister's response to her latest pregnancy was to cry. And that was just about the most helpful thing anyone ever said to me, all through my pregnancy. I clung desperately to the picture of this woman, who I barely knew, crying over a pregnancy test just as I had wanted to do. At the time I knew almost nothing about her, except that she loved God and that she loved the children that she already had and that she would of course love this new baby too. (I love the fact that this was so obvious to me, even though I'd hardly ever spoken to this woman, and someday I want those things to show through me as well.) If she could be surprised and a bit sad about her unexpected pregnancy, maybe I could be too.