I have become addicted to reading birth stories. It’s unhealthy. At this point, I don’t know that there’s much that reading some heartfelt blog posts is going to do to prepare me for the marathon of delivering my baby boy. But I can’t stop thinking about labor.
I am thankful that things like epidurals and C-sections exist for when emergencies arise and Mama and baby’s health is at risk. But I also don’t see the point in going down that road if it’s not necessary. I’m 100% behind gender equality, but there is no denying that women’s bodies were designed for this process. It is my belief, in fact, that this entire process was designed by a higher power. Call it God, Allah, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster in the sky. But pregnancy is no coincidence. Women have been growing and delivering babies for as long as humans have been on this Earth. My body inherently knows how to do this.
All this sounds wonderful and empowering, but I admit that when it comes to pain, I am my own worst enemy. I’m sure I will feel exhausted. Defeated. Weak. And it’s at this point that I may make up my mind that there’s no way that little old me can do this seemingly impossible thing that women have been doing for centuries. It is with this understanding that I have begun to pray for “Labor Day.”
Thank you for this amazing opportunity to nurture and bring life to this little being inside my belly. I pray that Your will be done and that no matter what it takes, baby boy will arrive safely into the arms of the Mommy and Daddy who love him. I pray that in my times of weakness, You would be my strength. I pray that in times of doubt, You would be my comfort. I pray that in times of defeat, You would be the reassuring voice that urges me to conquer one more contraction, one more push. I pray that you would empower me and instill in me the knowledge and faith in myself to bring this baby Earthside.
In Jesus’ name, amen.