Nine months it took to perfectly form you in my womb; to grow each organ and form every bone; to expand your lungs and strengthen your beating heart. Nine months to lengthen each finger and toe and to shape each vessel; to awaken your five senses and fill your brain with the necessary knowledge to survive outside of me. Nine months for me to feel like I’d known you my whole entire life; nine months to prepare to be your mother forever. Nine months for me to know a connection so deep, and nine months for me to anticipate meeting you face to face. Nine months to imagine all you would be and all you would do. Nine months to feel you grow inside of me and nine months for me try and grow up for you. Nine months for me to decorate your nursery and plan what you would wear home from the hospital. Nine months of a love that I’d never known. Nine months of talking to you and sharing my dreams with you. Nine months of feelings not known before – exuberant joy, giddy excitement, hopeful expectation were just a few. But, there were also times of worry, fear, and anxiousness. Nine months to be ready, prepared, confident. Nine months to know that one can never be ready. Nine months is all it took to bring your beautiful life forth to me. And, in one moment you were gone. It doesn’t seem right. I doesn’t feel fair. I wanted you with every ounce of my being from the moment I knew you were conceived. For nine months, I carried you. And, it’s been nine months since I carried you for the last time.
Over the years, I have heard and seen the many breaking hearts of military mommas. If I overheard a mom talking about her son serving oversees, and how much she missed him, I would feel so sad for her. Or, if I’d see a Facebook post from a friend missing her military daughter, who wouldn’t be coming home any time soon, I’d think of how hard that must be. The ones that really got me were the mothers who hadn’t heard from their baby in quite some time, and they weren’t sure if their child was even safe. Those posts would tug so hard at my heart. But, the ones I feel most for are the parents who have said goodbye to their children, only to never see them whole again; either by way of physical death, emotional death or, worst of them all, spiritual death. I pray for these moms and dads specifically on this Independence Day.
So, I have an announcement for you, my friends…
She then asked me to have a seat because I had been chosen for a second interview. As I waited for interview number two, I pondered all kinds of scenarios in my head. Could I do this? Could I make it work just until January? I would get home at 8pm, which would give me just about an hour with the kids. Through the scattered thoughts, I heard my name being called for part two.
We had church that night and as I was sharing with a friend about the interview and the job, I just said out loud what I needed to be saying all along. ‘I’m not going to take it if they offer me nights.’ Sometimes, talking things out leads you to your answer. I told my friend that I was just going to trust God – that if He wanted me there, He would make one of those two jobs available to me. Of course once I made that decision, my mind became a battlefield of thoughts, again. ‘Why would they give one of those day position to ME?’ ‘I don’t have previous experience in this particular field.’ ‘But, we need the money, so I should just take whatever they will give me.’ I just kept doing my best to hand it all over to God. I know that, ultimately, I can cast my cares upon Him because He cares for me. It wasn’t an easy task for me to just let it go, but I kept doing it each time I realized I was obsessing or dwelling on it.