Secret Things #4: Worries

February 9, 2014 - Week 9

This is going to be a weird one. Brace yourself.

I can be so completely irrational sometimes.

When I was a kid, probably starting around 10 or 11, I would occasionally get consumed by this idea that what if, what if, I suddenly became pregnant. For no reason. Out of the blue. Just, you know, another Mary mother of Jesus incident. As absolutely ridiculous as it sounds now [and really, as it sounded then], I would just get completely caught up in these worrisome thought cycles. How in the world did it happen? Who would believe me? The Bible doesn't mention another virgin birth, does it? What will I do with a baby? I'm going to be in so much trouble and it's not even my fault!

Yes, yes, these were the kinds of things I thought about. What a ridiculous child I was.

Luckily, I grew up and moved on from such weird childish fears. I went to college. I met a man. We decided we would love each other for life and sealed it with a kiss. And then, with my surely-by-now-grown-up-thoughts-and-understanding-of-biology, the completely ridiculous fear struck again: What if, what if, I suddenly became pregnant. For no reason. Out of the blue. Just, you know, another Mary mother of Jesus incident. How in the world did this happen? Who will believe me? Are there possibly two virgin births predicted in the Bible? What in the name of all things fuzzy will I do with a baby?! I'm going to be in so much trouble and all I did was kiss him.

Yes, yes, these were the kinds of things I thought about. By this point, I had given up the notion to think of myself as "normal."

Once married, I was quite, quite, concerned with the idea of discovering I was pregnant. This time, obviously, there would be a very explainable reason for it. But I still wasn't quite ready for it. I knew kids were definitely in the future but I first wanted to get through school and spend a few years with just Jason. Yet, due to my aversion to all things medical and druggy and unnatural, our go-to birth control method consisted of spreadsheets and common sense. The combined forces of Jason's Excel mastery and my unbelievable regularity of awesomeness were seemingly unstoppable.

But even so, every few months [especially in the first year or two of marriage], I would suddenly be plagued by this debilitating fear of what if?! I, clearly, was not ready to have a baby and Jason would have to soothe my ridiculous anxieties and show me the spreadsheets [go ahead, laugh] and logically walk me through why it was highly improbable that I could be pregnant.

After the first couple years, and mainly once I finished with school, my anxiety about pregnancy dramatically decreased. We obviously were successful at baby control, right? And even if I were to get pregnant now, I was out of school and it wouldn't be a terrible thing, right? But that's when my thoughts came at the matter from the opposite side. What if, what if, we just weren't able to get pregnant? What if it wasn't our awesome spreadsheeting that had kept us baby-less for the past few years? What if I just wasn't a very hospitable environment?! Commence the freak out.

Yes, yes, these are the kinds of things I think about. I am prone to moments of unbelievably irrational worries*.

So. Fast forward to six months ago. Baby fever had severely set in. I had finally reached a place of peace and intense desire regarding little Korean babies. We wanted to get a few more logistical ducks in a row before declaring Operation Baby Vermette, but with each passing week, I became more and more antsy. That clock people speak of? I now believe it exists because it is the most reasonable explanation to this sudden irrepressible need to have a baby. Now. When I wasn't silently freaking out about time passing me by [I still try to shield Jason from the depth of my inner crazy], I was actually pretty fascinated by the immediacy of the switch from "Baby One Day in the Future" to "Baby NOW." There may, in fact, be a physical baby switch hidden someone in my... intestinal mucosa? More research needs to be done. I'm on it.

And then... I got to experience the illogical What if I'm Pregnant thoughts with an entirely different set of emotions. Before we threw all of our perfectly formulated Baby Control methods out the window, I found myself hoping each month would magically declare that I had somehow become pregnant. Even though I knew this could not happen, just as it had not happened for the entire five year period preceding it. We were just too good for a surprise pregnancy. Or... Or what if I was broken?!

So that is how I spent the months leading up to The Month, fluctuating between hoping to spontaneously become pregnant and slogging through fears of This Will Never Be. But, the moment of truth finally came. We made the official declaration of kpluBlet or Bust. And... boom. First try. Worries and fears obliterated.

Thus ends the story of my Becoming Pregnant Fears. I feel a milestone has most definitely been passed. And, yet again, a lesson has been learned. It is completely illogical to be bound by irrational fears. All of those accumulated hours of worry? They amount to nothing. God has a plan [and thankfully, it had nothing to do with a second virgin birth] and a perfect timing to His plan. This has been the repeated prayer of ours, to not only believe in the goodness of His plan but to also trust in His timing. The latter is often much more difficult of a task, but oh, it is worth it.

Who knew a tiny little grape-sized person could be the cause of and immediate obliteration to years of needless fears and anxieties?

Dear Tiny Little Half-Asian kpluBlet,

You have eyes now. Only a fraction of an ounce in weight, and yet your eyes are developed. The realization of this nearly takes my breath away. I love your daddy's eyes. Sometimes they're brown. Other times they're green with a fascinating orange ring in the center. I like to hope you'll have his eye coloring. I know, though, that it is much more likely that you'll have my eye coloring, what I often bemoan is just "mud brown." He tells me I am ridiculous and says he loves my eyes, but I still think of my eye color as plain brown and unappealing.

I know this will change the minute I look into your eyes. The very moment I see your eyes, even if they are the exact hue as mine, I will know they are beautiful. I will know that I have been ridiculous to have ever dared to call this eye color "blah." You will teach me the error of my ways the second your eyes meet mine. And we will have beautiful eyes together.

You are perfect, made in the image of God. You are the culmination of years of prayer and the instant abolishment of all my irrational fears. You are the product of God's plan, timing, and love.

Grow, kpluBlet, grow.

*"Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but doesn't get you anywhere."

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