Your Body, Your Baby

This is Your body. This is Your baby. Please show me what to do. 

I found myself saying these words today as I lay in bed deciding to wake up or sleep some more. I’d been up really late finishing a task that was overdue and needed to be addressed before I totally run out of any more time this week. By the time it was bedtime I knew I’d miss the opening session of a key training I’d join other facilitators at work to lead this week and the week after. The opening session was mandatory for all facilitators. All. 

Priorities seem to guide me by the hour. I promised myself I’d be kind to me. We’ve waited for Ariosua’s arrival for what seems like so long that I wasn’t going to be the one to mess it up. Ariosua isn’t his/her name yet, I love to do that for unborn children of people I know, combine the names of their parents so our little one is Ariosua until further notice. 

With all the changes that be, no wonder I’m guided by the hour. I promised to be kind to me but also be responsible about it. I won’t just vanish, or not show up, but I won’t ignore the consequences of my actions either. 

Most times I’m sure, other days I’m confident enough to wing it and stick by it. This morning I honestly had to pray, “This is Your body, this is Your baby. Show me what to do.” Because sometimes the simple decision to sleep in a few more minutes or wake up and start an already late day is like God’s intervention! Really it is! 

I mentioned to a friend, Delight, that I salute our mothers. They survived, thrived in, lost in, loved in, grew in pregnancy without the Internet. Only folk tales and hearsay and gut feel and the scientific evidence they had access to but they had all of us and the ones they lost along the way. I salute our parents, our mums and dads. To me, they possibly prayed even more than I did or perhaps less with the information they had, “This is Your baby, this is Your body. Show me the way.” 

I got up when I realised my exhausted body had not woken up for the night’s pee, my risks of UTIs and its potential harm to Ariosua. So I got up to pee even though my brain could confirm that I could enjoy another hour’s sleep without issues. And that was it. I was up. Exhausted but up. 

Now I have very little time to complete my pending work even with all the time I’ve gained by missing the opening session at work. And even less time (probably no time) if I take our 6-month-old puppy to the vet because she’s been sick for a while and I don’t want to wait to the weekend to “see” if she’d live or not. 

And so the prayer continues… “This is Your body, Your baby, Your puppy, the job You’ve blessed me with and want me to be a good steward of… Show me what to do.”

And the list may keep growing. Isn’t it a deep and amazing joy that our Father in Heaven hears us, listens so carefully to us, even with prayers we know we need but doesn’t always make sense? Because more than an answer to prayer, we need Him. Him. And He gives so much of Himself to us even before we ask, let alone when we do. 

This is Your body, Your baby, Your puppy, the job You’ve blessed me with, the time You’ve given me to live, Your life, Your words on my fingertips, Your worship, Your day that You created, Your chosen destiny for me to take hold of, Your love for me, O God… Please show me what to do. 

9:13am

Pregnancy Diaries || Tuesday, 13th July, 2021 || 19 weeks, 0 days