In this guest post, Logan Hahn shares her story of learning to take each day as step of ordinary faith in God's extraordinary grace, even in the face of unexpected emotions and fears.
I Didn't Want to be a Mother
I have been pregnant for 200 days—give or take a few.
Those 200 days have been hard. Harder than I expected. Challenging in ways I didn’t know I could be (or needed to be) challenged. There have been good days, days that left me feeling light and expectant. Many more days have had me down deeper than I thought possible. On Day One all I felt was shock. We had taken precautions. We had used protection. But still, those two lines appeared. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
On Day Seven, I still didn’t believe I was actually pregnant so I took another test. To my dismay, they appeared again, like lines marking a road forward - a road I had no desire to travel. This was not my timing. This was not my plan. I think I took a total of five pregnancy tests within those first ten days, each one returning a pair of lines brighter than the last.
The days from ten until now have been filled with a lot of just that: Dismay. Unbelief. Apprehension. Fear. I thought over time the idea of becoming a mother would sink in and the pregnancy bliss I hear so many talk about would engulf me into baby oblivion. Yeah, I’m still waiting for that to happen.
I think the reason I can share those emotions, and even admit that I still feel that way at times, is because of the journey I have been on over the last 200 days. For several months I hid the fact that I was terrified of being pregnant, even from my closest family and friends. I stayed confined within a horrible cycle of fear and anger and guilt and confusion, and quite literally nearly spun myself into a web of crazy. I had so many emotions and so much anxiety consistently harbored in the depths of my heart that began to eat away at any joy I had left. "How had I gotten to this point?" I asked myself. "Why couldn’t I just be happy like those other women? Doesn’t God realize what’s happening to me?"
My marriage was suffering. My home was suffering. My work was suffering.
I was suffering.
For many days that led into months, my pride overshadowed my suffering. I allowed myself to believe I would never be a good mother, I wasn’t ready, this was not what I wanted, and all while feeling regret and shame and guilt for having ever thought those things in the first place. I mean, I have friends--BEST friends--who have lost their sweet babies while my own continues to grow in my womb. How could I feel the way I do when people I love have lost what I have? These thoughts tormented me. They dragged me farther away from Christ than I think I’ve ever been. They isolated me and turned me inward, unable to be vulnerable or trust anyone with the weight of anxiety I was carrying. So, I stuffed my suffering into the furthest part of myself and pretended to be all the things I was not: Happy. Joyful. Excited. Ready.
Finding God in the Darkness
But because God is God, and because he gives us exactly what we need, he gave me a husband who is both intuitive and aggressive. My pain was lifted off my shoulders and placed on the shoulders of the man who my daughter will soon call Daddy. My husband recognized my suffering—despite my hiding—and called my midwife for help. He said his wife was not normal, that this was more than normal pregnancy emotions and hormone changes. He stepped in when I couldn’t step up and took my hurting heart in his hand and said, “We’re in this together. You are not alone.”
As I think over the last 200 days, over the journey I have been on to becoming a mother, I see God’s goodness woven throughout my brokenness. I see how He provided me with a husband who is able to see past my mask and ask the hard questions. I see how He gave me grace when I continued to run from Him. I have seen that trusting Him means doing so in spite of my fears, apprehensions, and weaknesses. But more importantly, I see the Gospel of Christ displayed so clearly in what seemed so muddy. He has been faithful these last 200 days, just like He was faithful to love and ultimately die for someone who did not love him back. Someone like me.
The days that lie ahead still terrify me, and on hard days I doubt my ability to bring her into the world, let alone be a good mom to her. This road is not one I wanted to walk - not yet - but this is the path God has given me and I will not stray outside the lines, not from Him. Each day, from now until 270, is one more step of learning to believe the truth of Hebrews 10:23…that he who promised is faithful.
Logan is a writer, photographer, and creator. She blogs at A Girl Named Logan, and currently works at Asbury Theological Seminary as the Campus Visit and Event Coordinator.