Annie lives in the Kansas woods with her husband and three very young children. She adores writing and sharing her heart with her friends through her posts on MamaDweeb.com. She writes about blogging basics, personal posts and shares her newfound interest in photography. You can chat with her on twitter @MamaDweeb.
Life was beyond busy and full last April. My 3 year-old daughter was growing her independence and my baby boy was about to turn a year old. I hugged his squishy body, still full of baby fat, happy with my young family.
Then I peed on a stick. My serenity turned to anxiety.
I prayed and prayed for a miscarriage. I do not believe in abortion, so I cried out to God. I cried telling him my heart.
“How can I do this? If I have a miscarriage I will not be sad. I will be relieved. Dear Lord, how can I handle this? Three babies?”
Then, I waited. I did not tell anyone except a few very close friends. I kept hoping it was a mistake. When the 10th week passed and I knew the baby was growing, I began to change my prayers.
“Dearest Lord, you have chosen to bless me. I am going to go insane though! Please change my heart. Help me to love this baby. Give me a heart of love for him or her and even more, give me the sanity and strength to handle three young children so close together! Don’t let me go crazy and abuse my children due to exhaustion and overwhelming thoughts.”
I prayed this nightly. I was scared. Already stretched to my maximum mental limits, how would I react when I was out numbered? I kept praying for God to change my heart, to calm my fears. To help me want this new life.
And he did. I began to buy things for her. I named her Lucy and purchased a personalized coming home outfit. I spent more money on her than I did on any of my other kids. I bought her hair bows and new clothes. I spoke about her with her older sister Lizzie. I even started to work on coming to peace with a 3rd c-section.
After surgery, she nursed. Her beautiful face melted my heart. I became lost in her blue eyes and skinny little fingers. By breastfeeding and babywearing, I began to bond closer and closer with my baby girl. The one I didn’t know I wanted.
It is unreal how much she is loved today. I run my finger over her delicious fat rolls and she giggles from deep within her flubby belly. Her fat cheeks rise in a laugh and a sparkle pops from her jewel-blue eyes. I kiss her over and over throughout the day. My baby girl, my Lucy Goosey! I adore my baby girl!
I know how real it was when I did not want her. I know how much it took for me to pray that God would change my heart. Now, I can not imagine life without her! She is my giggly-sunshine of fatness. I love my chubby girl and Praise the Lord for breaking my heart that day in April when I read the double lines.