Not Another Baby!

Palm Sunday—a day the “church” celebrates the preparation of Christ’s coming crucifixion.  I have always enjoyed this day of worship.  I love receiving the palm branches during service and waving them in celebration of Jesus’ journey to the cross.  I wave my palm branch and imagine Jesus walking down the aisle.  I feel so honored to be in the presence of the King that would redeem me forever. 

Palm Sunday 2013 was anything but celebratory.  I was so sick that I couldn’t make it to Sunday’s service.  I lay in the bed feeling miserable.  My stomach would not settle.  I recall thinking, “Not another virus!”  (During the past weeks, I’d had many stomach issues that I thought were viral.) I didn’t get much rest that morning because I had my two little people home with me, and as usual, after church hours, they were ready to go to Grandma and PaPa’s house for dinner.  I forced myself out of the bed.  I was so tired.  I got us ready, and off to my parents’ house we went. 

In my mind, something just wasn’t right.  I’d been so tired and lethargic.  At first I thought it was a passing thing, something I just needed to rest off.  Well, I’d had a lot of rest, but I felt horrible, still.  Could I be pregnant?  No way!  My boyfriend and I were working so hard at dating God’s way (meaning we were trying not to have sex).  Yeah, we’d failed the test before, but my goodness, we were really trying!  I couldn’t be pregnant!  No, I wasn’t on birth control and no, we hadn’t used protection the last time we were together.  (Stupid, I know! But it was only because our intimacy wasn’t planned or expected).  Pregnant…no not me! That wouldn’t be fair.  Lord, I was trying…didn’t that count for anything?

I slipped out of my parent’s house to CVS’ Pharmacy. I stealthily moved around looking for the area the pregnancy tests were placed.  They were oh so appropriately placed at the end of an aisle right in front of the pharmacy counter where all could see what I was checking out.  I chose my apparatus.  I hurriedly moved to the front of the store to pay, hoping to quickly get out without being seen.  I was the only one at the register.  Good.  The clerk was moving slowly.  “Oh, girl, yeah you better check if you pregnant!” she exclaimed.  “Yeah, I just found out I’m pregnant.  Girl, I just cried and cried…”  She rambled on for what seemed an eternity.  While rambling, of course, another customer came up to the counter and I am sure she was listening.  Embarrassed, I mumbled, “I’m getting these tests for my friend.”  Finally, I got out, with my two pregnancy tests in tote. 

At home, in the bathroom, I did my thing:  I peed on the stick.  Then I waited and prayed.  I’d taken pregnancy tests before when I was married.  Then, the waiting was exciting; but this time it was a very different experience. 

A plus sign-- I was, well you know, pregnant! 

I didn’t cry at all.  Maybe at that moment I was in shock, I’m not sure.  Even thinking back now, I realize that the tears never came.  I never cried even though I was absolutely, one hundred percent devastated. I did not want to be pregnant!

I called my sister.  At first, I am sure that she was totally in disbelief, too, but one of us had to have a clear mind about my situation.  So she put on her big sister hat and started to assure me, to no avail, that it would be alright.  She asked me what my next step was going to be.  My next step?  I didn’t want to move.  I wished I could just simply disappear.  What was I going to do?  I was divorced and single with two babies.   I was still learning to be a mother to my five and six year olds, and now this!  Ughhh! What was going to be my next step?

My answer was abortion. 

I never believed in aborting a baby, but I was also never so ill-prepared to have a baby.  The biggest thing for me was the fact that I wasn’t married.  It’s one thing to sin (have sex out of marriage), but it’s another beast when because of sin you have to walk around with the evidence of your sin in plain sight for nine months.  Oh, the consequences of sin…I started to make plans to get rid of my baby at an out-of-state clinic.  In my heart, I did not want another child, but was I strong enough to kill this one inside of me and live with the regret forever.  I knew lots of women who’d done it.  Several of these women were very close to me.  Although it had been years since they visited the clinic, they still lived with the loss of their unplanned or unwanted babies.  Could I do it?

What had happened to me?  This person who was toiling with the idea of pregnancy was not me.  I mean, not just because I was pregnant, but almost everything about me had strayed so far away from the Melva of several years ago.  I was lost—and maybe for the first time, I realized how far out at sea I’d drifted.  (Did I tell you that I was not a good swimmer?)  I knew I needed help.  My sin had pushed many of my stronger supporters away.  For example, my parents were so put out with me that our relationship was strained.  Shame kept me from reaching out to two mothers (they were my friends) from my church in Louisiana.  I couldn’t imagine sharing my mess with them.  They would be so disappointed…

I was angry with myself, the baby’s daddy and maybe…should I admit it?...God.  I was upset with myself the most, for not holding out sexually, and not protecting myself against this very thing.  I see it often in the school system, young girls pregnant.  I know they are young, but it always baffled me how so many of them didn’t use protection.  And there I was in the same condition as some of my students.  (Well, not the exact same condition:  I was grown and working, but my pregnant students and I were both still going to become mothers because of our stupidity.)  I am not sure why I was angry with my boyfriend, other than the fact that it was him who laid down with me.  He was a good, supportive man, and I knew he would be a good father because I’d seen him with the kids that he raised.  I didn’t want to tell him I was pregnant because I seriously felt he would want to keep this baby; I couldn’t do that!  I was angry at God for a lot of reasons.  My life seemed to be falling apart despite my past as a positive, faithful Christian.  Did I not deserve to be happy?  My ex-husband was happy.  He was preparing for his second marriage.  Other people I knew who barely seemed to be saved were happy. (That was judgmental, I know, but that’s how I thought.)  Why couldn’t I do what I wanted to do and be happy, too?  Why? Why? Why?  Did God forget who I was?  I, Melva, moved to Louisiana because He, God, told me to. (I’ll tell that story another time.)  I stopped dating for a period of time (well before my marriage) so God could prepare me for my future mate.  I, I, I…could go on and on with reasons why God should have had mercy on me!  Yes, I was mad with God, too! 

Two nights after finding out I was pregnant, I knew I had to do something drastic, or I would drown.  I had to tell someone (other than my sister).  I couldn’t tell my parents, yet; I was too scared.  I couldn’t tell my boyfriend, he wouldn’t understand because he doesn’t have to carry a baby for nine months.  Who could I turn to?

I called my pastor.  I braced myself for the back lash, but there was none!  He was so gentle with my feelings (other than a little chuckle he gave once I told him of my current situation).  He didn’t condone my sin, but “matter of factly” stated that what was done was done, and all I could do at this point was to move forward.  After encouraging me through my stressful sad story, he said something like, “You know you can’t get rid of the baby, right?”

Pastor Burgess rescued me! His loving kindness, understanding, and wise counsel became my floatation device.  The biggest thing was that he saved my baby that morning.  That simple question, You know you can’t get rid of the baby, right?  made me realize that I could never abort this life within me.  And now that my pastor knew, he could and would hold me accountable.

So, I was keeping the baby! 

I am twenty-three weeks and two days pregnant today!  I still have a lot of emotions to work through, but God has given me strength.  My family (including my parents) and church family have accepted my pregnancy and are my biggest supporters.  I did not plan to be in this place, but I am, and I accept that! I am opening myself up to let God use me, despite, despite, despite Me!

To my friends and readers that have toiled with pregnancy and abortion:

God forgives.  We must forgive ourselves.  Remember that Jesus knew your sin before you knew it, and He still chose to die to set you free from the guilt and regret of your sin.  You are redeemed!

This has been Melva’s TRUTH!

Remember:  I am not the good news—Jesus is!

**One Day I’ll Tell My Kids   Entry #3

Dear Future Baby,

Mommy struggled with the decision to have another baby—that baby was you.  I want you to know that I was selfish; I only thought of how ashamed and changed I would be.  After Godly counsel, I clearly see and feel the joy that you will bring to my life.  Every time you kick or move I am reminded of the life that God blessed me with, even though I don’t deserve you.  Little girl, I am no longer ashamed.  I walk around where ever I go proudly showing off my new physique.  I want everyone to know that you will be here really soon, and you will be our blessing!

I am preparing for you spiritually.  I want to be strong for you; therefore, I have to learn to let God be my strength.  This is a tough training camp, but for you (and your siblings) it is so worth it! Baby girl, I love you so much!  I can’t wait to hold you and watch you grow into a beautiful woman of God.  You are so special to me! You are the baby that my soul fought for!

Love you much,

Mommy