Dread & Hope!

Becoming a mother for the first time filled me with immense joy. Despite the inevitable inconveniences, the anticipation of meeting my baby overshadowed everything else. I often found myself wondering about her appearance. Would she have a head full of hair or just a soft covering? Would her eyes be bold and big, or would they resemble mine? I even pondered over the details like her nails and her temperament - would she be a chatterbox or a more reserved soul? These questions consumed my thoughts, and I eagerly awaited the answers.

This is a photo of me, pregnant for my third child!

However, amidst all the excitement, there was one aspect that filled me with dread - the thought of labor. Hearing descriptions of the pain and the birthing process didn't help ease my anxiety. You see, I had unintentionally earned a reputation in my family for having a low pain threshold. My mother often teased me about it, adding to the pressure I felt about facing labor and delivery. As my due date approached, this fear intensified, and it became a source of sleepless nights.

 

Despite understanding the beauty that awaited at the end of this journey - the arrival of my precious baby and the experience of motherhood - there was a lingering sadness within me. Having lost my own mother just over a year earlier, her absence left a profound void in my life. Knowing that I would go through labour and delivery without her made it even tougher for me.

I battled with depression and sadness, yet I continued to put on a brave face each day. I guess I was struggling so hard to cling to the goodness that would surface in the end. But that's story for another time.


As my due date neared, my anxiety about labor grew. When it finally began, just a day before the predicted date, it felt surreal. The initial contractions seemed manageable, almost like a joke, but soon reality hit hard. The pain intensified, coming in relentless waves, leaving me breathless and unable to comprehend anything else. In those moments, I felt like I couldn't continue. Yet, when the time came, my baby arrived, and amidst the chaos, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. I wished my mother was there to witness it, to reassure me that I had done well.

As I reflect on this experience during Holy Week, I can't help but draw parallels to Jesus' suffering and death. He, too, faced intense fear and anguish as the time for His sacrifice drew near. Despite knowing what awaited Him, He pleaded for relief, yet ultimately accepted His fate. 

His suffering brought about salvation for humanity, a hope that transcends all pain and sorrow. 

In my own life, knowing Jesus brings a sense of peace and hope, even in the darkest moments. It's a hope that assures me of a brighter tomorrow, no matter how tough the journey may seem. As we celebrate Easter and the resurrection of Jesus, let's hold on to this hope, knowing that victory is ours through him.

What about you? Where do you find your hope and salvation?

As and if I continue to share my stories, I hope you get inspired with the hope and resilience that comes from knowing Jesus. For now, let's hold on to the promise that hope does not disappoint.

Now hope does not disappoint,

because the love of God

has been poured out in our hearts by the

Holy Spirit who was given to us.

Romans 5:5

This Holy Week, may we find solace in the hope of resurrection, knowing that through Christ, we have victory over every trial and tribulation.