Creating Miracles

Erma Bombeck, humorist and newspaper columnist, once wrote a column called "If I Had My Life to Live Over." I read it years ago, but one of her pieces of wisdom stuck with me, long before I ever had thoughts of becoming a mom.

She wrote, "Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle."

Yes, pregnancy means aches and pains, swollen ankles, stretch marks and weight gain. It means days of saying, "Yes, I'm still pregnant," when you are overdue, and hours in labor and delivery. But the beginnings of life are a miracle that belongs to women and women alone.

Fathers can share in the joyous announcement of a pregnancy, but mothers get the honor of truly being the first to know.

Fathers can watch in amazement as an ultrasound shows their little ones waving their arms and kicking their legs. But only mothers have the privilege of helping that little one grow strong enough to come into this world.

Fathers can put their hands on mom's stomach and feel the baby kick, but those first sweet flutters of life -- and the giant kicks that come later (are they playing soccer in there?) -- belong to mothers alone.

On days like today when my ribs ache from the addition someone's building, I've been to the bathroom so many times I can't begin to count, and no matter what I do, I can't get comfortable, pregnancy can feel less than miraculous.

But every day I try to remind myself that together, God and I are doing something amazing--times three!