{"id":106,"date":"2014-03-16T14:02:00","date_gmt":"2014-03-16T14:02:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2014\/03\/breaking-the-facade.html"},"modified":"2015-01-13T09:14:18","modified_gmt":"2015-01-13T14:14:18","slug":"breaking-the-facade","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/rebeccafrech\/2014\/03\/breaking-the-facade.html","title":{"rendered":"Breaking the Facade"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\u00a0<\/span>**I\u2019m baring my soul here. You can have strong feelings and even think I\u2019m horrible, but please be kind.**<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I was so touched last week by the outpouring of congratulations and well-wishes for our newest baby. I also felt like a bit of a fraud. You see, there\u2019s this facade that moms of large families often have to wear. We\u2019re harshly judged by the culture around us, and even the slightest public hesitation of joy is a vulnerable chink in our armor. We join in an unspoken pact with other big family moms to never show our doubt to the world.<\/p>\n

And it stinks.<\/p>\n

Because as kind and joyous as my readers seem to be, I am not. I\u2019ve rewritten that sentence and deleted it three times because it seems like such an awful thing to say out loud, and yet it\u2019s the truth. The night that I found out I was pregnant again, I sat on the floor of my kitchen and silently sobbed for hours. This wasn\u2019t just bad news, it was devastating. Of all the things I\u2019ve ever wanted in my life, I\u2019ve never wanted anything more than I wanted to be not pregnant in that moment. The thought of it still brings tears to my eyes that well up and threaten to spill over.<\/p>\n

This is not great news to me and the timing could hardly be worse.<\/p>\n

Wendy was supposed to be our last baby. I have often wondered in the past how people could know that for sure, and then I did. Her traumatic birth plus other factors have made a hysterectomy a good idea for me. I\u2019ve delayed it as long as I can, but I had tentatively scheduled it for June when the break in schedules meant that I could rest and help could come. I\u2019m also tired. I\u2019ve been pregnant 10 times in 17 years, and it has taken its toll on my energy. I needed <\/i>to be done. Psychologically. Physically. Mentally.<\/p>\n

And I was.<\/p>\n

We played by the rules and successfully managed to avoid pregnancy for over two years, and then God had<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

other plans for us. I\u2019m struggling to see the Divine Wisdom in this. All I\u2019m finding are fatigue, nausea, and dread. I hate being pregnant, and I was happily prepared to never do it again.<\/p>\n

And then I was.<\/p>\n

And the mask I wear in public is slipping as I struggle not to cry in front of people. And the mattress is growing a permanent dent from the place where I curl up under the blankets in pain and sadness. And I remind myself that a baby is coming and that babies are happy things\u2026and I don\u2019t care. Because I\u2019m numb to it all.<\/p>\n

And then I feel guilty because this baby deserves better than a mom who could at best be described as ambivalent about its existence.<\/p>\n

I called the doctor\u2019s office two weeks ago to schedule my first prenatal appointment, and the doctor caled me back horrified. I had a hysterectomy scheduled\u2026what was I thinking? And the pressure began for termination. And that\u2019s the irony, isn\u2019t it? I will spend the rest of this pregnancy fighting for the life of the baby that I never wanted to pregnant with.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s what it means to be Pro-Life.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s this mental image of pro-lifers as people who are always happy, always excited by the sight of a positive pregnancy test. We project this Stepford image to the world of having never met a crisis pregnancy that we couldn\u2019t joyfully embrace.<\/p>\n

And that image is a lie.<\/p>\n

Because sometimes Pro-Life means sobbing on your kitchen floor and begging God for the test to be wrong, and wishing with everything in you to be un-pregnant. It means crying yourself to sleep at night in fear and frustration\u2026and anger. Goodness yes, the anger.<\/p>\n

It means thinking about that tiny bubbly person growing and forming uninvited in my body\u2026<\/p>\n

and deciding that they have just as much of a right to life as I do. That this new life is just as valuable as mine.<\/p>\n

Because sometimes God calls you on your beliefs and asks you to put your money where your mouth is, and that\u2019s when you find out what it is that you really believe.<\/p>\n

Me? I believe in LIFE.<\/p>\n

**Edited to add: It\u2019s not life-and-death, more like life-and-health. I\u2019m not dying here\u2026.so\u2026.silver lining?***<\/span><\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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