Y’all, I do not like needles or blood or pain, really. They make my elbows hurt. (Strange story, I know, but it’s very true!) So, pregnancy has always been a bit of a challenge for me.
During my first pregnancy, I spent more time in L&D getting fluids and terbutaline than I like to remember, and let’s just say it: my veins do not cooperate. Never have..and obviously never will.
Second pregnancy, I received painful injections weekly for about 20 weeks. Y’all…those P17 things hurt. For real.
This past pregnancy came with two babies at once so things were a little different all around. One day in particular began with dehydration and ended with my husband helping me remove an IV in the parking lot of a Taco Bell.
And the crazy thing? I would do every single bit of it again. Twice.
So, this week, when I think of the pain I went through to have my children I can’t help but think of the pain He went through to have me.
Even those painful P17 shots don’t compare.
But the reason, while infinitely greater, remains the same.
Love.
The kind that gives. The kind that endures. The kind that sacrifices.
I think it’s called “agape,” and I know it comes with grace.
P.S. Update: I feel the need to be really honest with you today and tell you that my “2nd pregnancy” was actually my third…and even the pain of losing one got covered in the love and grace that comes from the cross. “He works all things together for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”