These past few days have been fine on the surface...no big news to report. Charlie was throwing many fits as he readjusted to life at home last week, but then on Thursday he magically stopped and began being a great little boy again... so Chance decided it was his turn to be the fit-thrower. At least they are alternating, because if they ganged up against me right now, it wouldn't be pretty.
But for the last few days I've really been struggling with the blessed misery of being big and pregnant. I feel like all I do is complain. "Oh my aching swollen feet!" "Oh how I can't wait to be able to be reach things on the floor (like all those little legos I step on all the time!)" "Oh how this heartburn makes me nauseous," "Oh, I'm so tired of being tired. I can't wait to have energy and movement again so I can play with the boys!" etc, etc. I am constantly reminding myself that I've still got 5-7 weeks to go, so it's time to chill out and be patient. I am very thankful that we have another son coming, really I am! I'm just so OVER being pregnant. I'm really not wanting to be pregnant anymore...like ever. I think God's way of speaking to me is that Veggietales song that keeps ringing in my head: "A thankful heart is a happy heart. I'm glad for what I have, that's an easy way to start..."
But then I read this article. It says that Asian elephants have a gestation period of 22 months (almost 2 years!!!!) and this one elephant had contractions for 2 days(!)...then she died in childbirth. And one third of all Asian elephants are born stillborn. So could you imagine being pregnant for almost 2 years, then your baby is born dead?!
Alright, God, I get it. Thank You for not making me an elephant.
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