It was early in the morning before my husband’s alarm was doomed to go off. I awoke to my 36-week swollen belly and a bladder ready to abandon ship. My husband whispered his apologies that I had to get up a fifth time as I heaved myself over the pregnancy pillow and finally off of the bed.


Somewhere in the middle I found myself responding, “It’s okay. It’s just for a season.”

I marveled at my own words and mentally patted myself on the back for such a mature response.

My words were true but they were not exactly the mindset that had been accompanying me through the last couple weeks. Sure, this pregnancy was going better than my last, and my focus was divided between toddlerhood and growing a baby so I simply did not have as much time to solely devote to thinking about the “luxuries” that drive the third trimester.

But I had shared some concerns and complaints with my friends and husband about the exhaustion and lack of comfortability that came and went as it pleased. Just this week I collapsed on the playroom floor and was pulled upstairs by my husband’s strong arms with instructions to sleep.

I proceeded to for 10 hours (aside from those intermittent pee breaks). I am not sure the last time that has ever happened in my life or will again. I mean, I am a parent.

There are days where I think, how do I go on taking care of a 2-year-old, making dinner for my family and following through on commitments I probably should have said no to a month ago?

But I am reminded of my own early morning wisdom. These challenges are only for a season. A season that is bringing new life into our family.

I can complain if I want to or view this time as a unique season. We don’t plan to birth twelve children and in all reality, only seventeen months of my life have been spent carrying life inside of me so far.

Why race through these months?

It will not be forever that I feel the somersaults and small kicks on the inside.

It will only be so much longer that my son runs over to me to kiss and hug my belly, unknowingly kissing and hugging his little sibling from the outside world. These alone moments between mother and son are waning.

People will stop genuinely asking how I am feeling.

Seats will not be miraculously opened anymore for the woman with a huge belly.

I won’t have the excuse to order pizza because I either, forgot to make dinner or was too tired to make it.

It will not be forever that my husband whispers his love to an unseen child, telling them about the world they will soon enter.

You might run into me tomorrow. I might seem distant because my thoughts are in five places and I only got six hours of sleep. I might share that I am exhausted and my hospital bag is still not packed. I might encourage you to mentally speed up my due date and pray you have a special power to do so.

I might not seem like the same person sharing this wisdom today.

If that happens, why don’t you share it back to me? Tell me this season is temporary and glorious. Tell me I will look back on these months and reach for the clock’s hands to be rewound.

Remind me of my early morning wisdom because sometimes I will forget.

Renee Leanna/Facebook

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