Beget Some Joy

I made it through 3 hours of the first day of school before driving to the hospital.

While awaiting our tiny blessing, my husband and I made many predictions about whence she would arrive. I assumed she would arrive in mid-September, partially out of the hopes that I would spend more time with my school kiddos before holding my personal, biological kiddo. My husband, as he often does, guessed it spot on. September 6, 2017, Rita Marie joined us on the outside!

One must spend only a few moments with most women on the topic of labor, delivery, and general motherhood before one hears the battle stories. Parents are the modern warriors, it seems, traversing parts unknown to raise their children and facing all number of dragons and scars.

Labor and delivery seems to be the focus of several women as the first prolonged peak of suffering on the path to parenthood. However, I’ve learned differently. Wanting, praying for, waiting for, and hoping for a child that I didn’t know would arrive was far more stinging than labor.

Who among us would disagree that suffering begets joy? The harder we work to reach that one student, the more cheer when we see the spark in their understanding. The more often we sweat it out at the gym or on the trails, the more confidence we build in the fruit of our actions. And the more a student struggles to learn, the greater the reward when their perseverance pays off.

I found that paradox to be true throughout my time growing my daughter on the inside: every pregnancy ailment was a step toward meeting her. I offered it up for her and my husband as we prepared to be her parents, just as I did during labor. Afterall, once I met her and held her in my arms, how could I complain of pain or suffering. The joy had come, as it always does on the other side of struggle. I choose to attend to that.