Jorjanne My husband, Chris, has always wanted another baby. I’m the one who proclaimed we were done, especially once my boys were old enough to start taking care of themselves. Of course, in the back of my mind, I felt that maybe we weren’t completely done with children, but I really thought that God was leading us toward a path of fostering and potentially even adopting down the road. Our family and friends always joked with us that we needed to try one more time so I could have a little girl for Chris. He’s such a fun uncle to all our nieces, but I knew if we had a baby girl, he’d never be able to say no to her!
l’ll always remember how he would play and make faces with all babies and little kids while we were dating. It didn’t matter whether we were at church or with family around children we knew, or if we were complete strangers to a child in a store or restaurant, kids seemed to be drawn to him. I knew he would make an incredible father, thanks to moments like this, and that’s one of the things that made me fall in love with him. I was right; he is an incredible father!
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With our first two boys, I was a stay-at-home mom. I’m grateful to Chris for making that time work because I know it wasn’t easy for us financially. Although teachers don’t make enough, losing my salary and insurance was quite a blow! Once Caleb started pre-school, and Seth started first grade, though, I began to toy with the idea of working outside our home again. I took a couple of long-term substitute teacher positions, which made it clear to both of us that I shouldn’t go back to teaching. Soon enough, Roxie and Matt talked to me about coming to work for them in The Cafe, which is how I joined the Fourth and Cherry family in 2011.
Fast-forward six years. By this point, I’m shuttling Seth and Caleb to school and extra-curricular activities, while working in The Café and as part of The Southern Mercantile team. I truly enjoy my job and feel as if I’m not only helping my family achieve their goals, but am starting to realize some of my own dreams. And then, I find out I’m pregnant again at 38 years old! (By the way, I turned 39 in March.) I must admit, I freaked out a little bit - my mind was reeling with thoughts of “I’m too old for this,” “My boys are old enough to do for themselves,” and “I don’t have time to have a baby!” When I revealed the news to Chris, I couldn’t tell if he was going to cry or pass out from the shock!
The first person I called was my sister, Marcy, who is a nurse practitioner in a maternal-fetal medicine practice, which means she deals with high-risk pregnant mothers. She has been such a valuable resource and voice of reassurance throughout my pregnancy - once she stopped laughing! Because of my “advanced maternal age,” I knew I would be referred to her practice, which was just fine with me. I trust my sister and wanted her to be as involved with my pregnancy as possible!
Once the initial shock of being pregnant wore off, my mind turned to worry and fear. I worried that I would miscarry early on, as I figured out I was pregnant around 5-6 weeks. Then, I worried I would have a later miscarriage, even into my second trimester. I worried about my baby having Down’s syndrome or some other chromosomal abnormality due to my age. There was a possibility that I could deal with Intrauterine Growth Restriction. And, the fact that Chris had a cerebral hemorrhage and seizures when he was born was a concern for the doctor, which made me worry about that.
You should know that I am not normally a worrier. When I do have irrational thoughts that flit through my mind, usually I can talk myself out of actually worrying about whatever is going on. With this pregnancy, though, I found that hard to do. I have had so many friends and family struggle with miscarriage, still birth, and infant loss, that it became a real fear for me. I had this horrible feeling that something terrible was going to happen to my baby, and then I would not only deal with grief, but also guilt over the fact that I felt so overwhelmed when I found out I was pregnant. For some reason, I had this irrational fear that I would never meet my baby, and I felt like it would be my fault.
At some point, after being reassured by my sister (and multiple test results) that my baby was growing as he should, with no signs of any abnormalities, I began to worry that my fear meant something terrible would happen to me instead. This made me worry more about leaving Chris, Seth, and Caleb behind to raise our baby boy. Instead of blaming me for losing him, would they blame him for losing me?
No one really knew how I was struggling. I’ve never understood how someone could be so paralyzed by fear and worry, but now I do. It is mentally taxing, and I see now how it can even be physically crippling. I prayed and prayed for God to grant me peace somehow, but it didn’t come. Until Easter Sunday.
I don’t remember much else about our Easter Sunday service, but I remember singing “Because He Lives.” And, I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit about me like I never have. I’ve always loved that hymn, even as a child. When I sing this song, I hear my Mama’s sweet soprano voice singing it along with me. If you’re not familiar with it, here’s the chorus:
“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know, He holds the future.
And, life is worth the living, just because He lives.”
“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know, He holds the future.
And, life is worth the living, just because He lives.”
Such simple words, but so powerful. I’m wiping tears even now as I recall trying to sing along that morning. I was emotional then, but could still sing until we began the second verse:
“How sweet to hold a newborn baby,
and feel the pride and joy he gives.
But, greater still, the calm assurance,
this child can face uncertain days, because He lives!”
“How sweet to hold a newborn baby,
and feel the pride and joy he gives.
But, greater still, the calm assurance,
this child can face uncertain days, because He lives!”
By this point, I was a blubbering mess, just trying to hold it together, hoping no one would notice! I felt God’s peace washing over me, a “calm assurance,” and “all fear is gone.” Somehow, no one else saw me falling apart, or at least they never said anything. I’ve told very few people about this experience so far, but felt compelled to share it with y’all. I want you to know how powerful God’s peace truly is, if you can allow the Holy Spirit to work in you. As Philippians 4:7 states, it really does surpass our understanding.
I left church Easter Sunday feeling so much lighter, even though my belly didn’t show it! And, wouldn't you know, God had already placed a reminder around me for when I would begin to fear again? A couple of years ago, my mother-in-law was cleaning out cabinets and found a plaque someone had given her when Chris was born. She passed it along to me, and somehow, that plaque ended up on the desk in the foyer of our home. What’s on the plaque? A copy of the hymn, “Because He Lives.” As I mentioned earlier, I’ve always loved this hymn, and as it turns out, this hymn brought great comfort to my mother-in-law when Chris was born with a cerebral hemorrhage and faced surgery once his seizures stopped. (That’s a miraculous story for another time!)
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The week after Easter, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes; no surprise, given my family history and the fact that I had almost every risk factor on the list. This means I have to keep track of my blood sugars, and if I don’t keep them under control, my baby could grow too big, which could mean I would have to have a C-section. I’m now on medication, which has a slight risk for stillbirth, so I have to go to the doctor twice a week to monitor his heart rate, while I make sure he’s moving throughout every day. While these are valid reasons for me to be scared, I don’t worry like I did before, “because I know, He holds the future.” And, whatever happens, “life is worth the living, just because He lives!”
A big thank you to Summer Laurel Photography for our new family portraits.
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