Appropriate joy

I got on BabyCenter last night. Hadn't been on in months, really not since finding out our youngest didn't have Downs syndrome. I don't have time and, when I'm not pregnant, that's just not somewhere I want to be. But pregnant, and not sleeping (why?), somehow I feel compelled to go to those type of sites.

So there is a group for moms due in August of this year, and there is a question, how old are you and how many kids do you have. 135 responses. A few older than 40, none with more than 4 children, many relieved to be having their last before age 30.

One lady said she was 58 and having her 13th, but was just kidding. Because of course she couldn't have a baby at 58, and of course she could't be having her 13th. Ha ha. That would be ridiculous.

And I thought, do I post?

I don't know why I care. I don't know why what anybody thinks matters to me. But it does. It does impact me. Am I alone in this? I feel people's acceptance or rejection of my pregnancy as I would their acceptance or rejection of my child.

And it isn't just people who think having 13 is as ridiculous as having a baby at 58. It is people who are grieving themselves because they have longed and prayed for a pregnancy, and why do I get to be pregnant, again, and they are not? No one says it, and maybe, by God's grace, they aren't even thinking it.

But I am. I'm glad to be pregnant but I would give anything for each of them to be.

Some people are concerned about my weight, or my other children, or my health, or our finances. But all of that concern, even if it is legitimate, amounts to disapproval. And my weakness is that I take that stuff in.

I used to really get a kick out of telling people how many kids I had in how many years. But over the years all the negativity beats it out of me, until, I just want to stay home. It takes the joy out of pregnancy, takes the excitement out of telling people, takes the fun out of looking pregnant.

I feel physically great, as good as I ever have felt when pregnant. I am healthy. I am strong. I am as thrilled about being pregnant as I have ever been. This baby is as greatly longed for and anticipated and desired as any of my babies has ever been. I'm not very tired, not very uncomfortable, not puking, not nauseaus.

Why don't I feel happier? I do not want to accept on my child's behalf that he or she is less stunningly amazing, less stupendously delightful, less phenomenonally, once-in-a-lifetime miraculously wonderful than every other baby due in August of 2012. God making a human is simply one of the most wonderful things He ever does. And, though I don't know why, and I certainly don't know why He maybe didn't yet in some of my precious friends' wombs, somehow, miraculously, He did and is in me.

This baby, this event, this miracle is worthy of all the joy I can muster, worthy of cute T-shirts and maternity clothes and shouting from the rooftops.

God, why are there so many who think it is ridiculous or laughable or wrong for me to rejoice over a precious new life, simply because I have already celebrated a dozen other times? Why are there wombs hungry for life when mine overflows? Why is joy that is so very appropriate so hard to come by? Please give life to these friends of mine. You are good, show forth Your goodness. And please, let people see the joy that You and I take in each conception, in each spirit, in each pregnancy, in each life.

I did post.

I said, I'm 40, will be 41 when baby is born, our 13th. Not kidding.