Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Coming Soon...

we will meet our 4th child.

I am just a couple of weeks away from my due date, so we should meet this new person some time in the next month.
I am at home right now on the couch,trying to recover from a brutal cough that has me both completely perplexed and weary.
It's been about 3 weeks and the cough is just getting worse. I've not had any other major symptoms but a chesty cough from the very beginning. But as of about a week ago, the cough itself is so painful in my ribs. I don't know if something is out of place or it's just the violent coughing taking it's toll on my pregnant body with all of it's limited space.
Anyway-I'm ready to be done sounding like I have smoker's cough and I'd really rather not hack my way with sore ribs through labor,soooooo
I'm hoping this moves on sooner rather than later.

Besides that, I have been slooowly tackling organizational projects.  That's the only way for moms to do organizational projects,isn't it? 
It's not just me?
Aside from that, it's nursery prep, packing labor bag, making labor play lists and birth plans. Who still does this with their 4th child?! 
A person who is obsessed with making an "experience" out of everything.
Simple? no.
An experience? yes.
I know what you're thinking.
My poor husband.

The really good news is that baby's don't need anything to come into this world but the hand of God, and that they have.

Pregnancy has a way of reminding us of this, I think.
I have had thoughts and feelings over the past few weeks that I recognized as distinctly familiar to my other pregnancies. 
As the due date draws near and the hope looms great, hope's steady nemesis, "fear," looms nearby.
It's funny how closely the two are tied isn't it?

I remember the first time I began to fear flying.
I literally was raised around planes. My dad was a bush pilot while I was growing up and flew everyday and came home smelling like fuel and fresh air.
For a few years, when I was a baby, he had his own plane and we would take family flights. There are pictures of me, laid out on a delicate knit blanket, all chub and rolls, on the wing of our plane. When I turned 9 years old, my birthday cake had a DC-3 on it (that's a plane) and my "gift" was my dad taking me and a couple of friends out flying and doing fun stunts that make your stomach leap and dip. I still have my favorite, "Airforce Barbie," packed away for a daughter or at least memories sake.
I was either going to be a fighter pilot,teacher, or a doctor...or all of those things.
Me, a dreamer? Naaa.
All that to say, I have flown plenty in my life and it never once occurred to me,even though my dad was badly injured in a plane accident when I was a child, that the plane I was in would fall out of the sky.
Until the flight that I took with my new husband on our honeymoon.
Sure, it wasn't the smoothest flight. But I think it had more to do with newfound hope.
The greater your hope is for something,the greater the possibility is for loss.
All of a sudden, it wasn't just me, this autonomous being,enjoying adventures without much thought to the consequences.
It was me, married to a man I wanted to build a life with, share a family with, and we were just beginning. 
I had, what seemed to be, a lot to lose.
It was then that I began to fear that all would be lost when the plane went down. 

Parenting is like this,at times.
The potential for hope is never greater than the expectation surrounding this new life. The beginning of something wonderful,beautiful,glorious.
If it could only end there, in the thankfulness of the miracle, but no.
Hopes evil twin, fear, saddles up alongside and joins the party.
And you begin to realize,in your pregnancy, what you must face for the rest of your life.
The reality that these people aren't ours and our hope is only safely set on one person
That God is the only one truly in control in this lifelong story called parenthood.
And we can either find great comfort in our lack of control or great fear.

It seems never is that vulnerable lack of control on our part more evident than in a pregnancy, when we literally eat and sleep and count kicks and basically do nothing.
While God grows a person.

So here's to rejoicing in your powerful hand and my weaknesses.
Here's to my many inabilities to keep my children truly safe.
May I rejoice in my weaknesses.
 May I find comfort in the harmony of the greatness of my role as mother and the relatively miniscule power I have.
Any of it I have is given to me by this child's Maker.

About a month ago, some of my favorite ladies joined together to celebrate this life with me. My sis in law and a friend hosted a beautiful brunch on a Saturday morning.
All sorts of delicacies were involved - waffles, fruit, whipped cream...mmmm.
Coffee, OJ, Muffins...it was perfect,laid back, precious and a huge blessing to me.

I love that these folks would gather to celebrate this life with me, even in round 4.

They made guesses about the gender and weight.
Speaking of, I'm curious what your thoughts are on the subject- boy or girl?
As you can see most folks are going for the "girl" option.
We shall see....soon enough.
Put your vote in!

How do I feel about the subject?
Boy: To me, parenthood is synonymous with raising young men. I've had seven years of holding little man faces in between my hands and looking into little man eyes and wondering how they will shape the world around them. I adore them. I adore the thought, the honor, of having a part in shaping these little boys into men unlike those so common in their world. Men of strength, men who can cry when tears are needed. Men who can yell when screaming is needed. Who can hate when hating is needed. Who love when love is needed. Tender hands, strong hearts. Servants to the world around them.  Men who expect that it's their job in life to protect those who have no protector. Men who know that it is most likely in their lot to do the hard things that no on else wants to do- that's what greatness is. Humble leaders who expect little and give much.   I may not be sporty-spice. I never thought I'd even have sons. But it's been the most delightful,joyful journey and I'd be over the moon about another opportunity to meet another Joyner boy.The novelty has not worn off. More of the same is great for me.

Girl: I have less to say about this purely based on the fact that I have zero experience in the area. I would like the experience in my lifetime of raising a daughter. I've loved being a daughter. I'd like to share my very minimal wisdom pertaining to womanhood with another girl in my home. I hope to value the humility that raising a daughter would bring into my life-face to face with my inadequacies reflected back at me in her. Having to dwell on biblical femininity and learn to communicate that accurately not only in word but in deed. Getting to share the journey of womanhood with another girl. Seeing Noah with a daughter. Surely another young lady besides myself in this home deserves to be loved well by that man. A daughter may just fall in love the same way I have. 
A new adventure-indeed. I like new adventures,though.
 So much unknown. So much trusting.
The thought of having a daughter feels a little more like skydiving to me for some reason, so little information to hold me up. Less security on my part.
But nothing too big for God.
I'm in if He's in.


 As you can see, my sissy did me the honor of taking a few pics before this little one enters the world. I love the thought of documenting each pregnancy in some way. The making of memories. The valuing of a season that will soon pass and only remain in memories...and now photos.
Thanx, sissy. You are AMAZING.
Here's to waiting!
And hopefully healing from this brutal cough before this child enters the world.
Here's to all the unknowns of the future-delivery, a new child, new seasons...
Here's to life being way bigger that us.
Here's to the Life giver and praising him for it.
However it looks.


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