My Uterus Has the Gift of Hospitality

Let me explain.

The King is enthralled with your beauty; 

Honor Him for He is your Lord.

Psalm 45:11

Last week, I won (yaaaaaaayyyyy!!!!) a Naptime Diaries print from Ellen's Handmade Recess giveaway. Ever since, I have been thinking about this verse (written above), which I had never read before.

I'm not sure my own husband is always enthralled with my beauty...is it really true that God could see me as beautiful? 

Me and our fourth baby, March 15, 2012

My goal here is to be encouraging to you specifically. With that in mind, I am going to be totally honest and it's a little uncomfortable and a whole lot of embarrassing. I am vain. I care a lot about how I look and how other people perceive how I look. As I've grown as a woman, a wife, a mother, and most importantly, as someone who believes God is real and His promises are true, I have tried to replace vanity with a gentler, more loving, kinder spirit.

I have struggled with this especially during this pregnancy. Apparently, my uterus has the gift of hospitality. As soon as it realized a baby was coming to visit for 9 months, it renovated itself and stretched out to a luxurious, welcoming size. "Come on in!" it seems to say. "Make yourself at home! There's plenty of room to sprawl out!" What? Doesn't your uterus have spiritual gifts?

Did I mention that it did this overnight? That overnight I went from comfortable in my regular jeans to requiring the dreaded up-to-your-bra-strap maternity jeans? I tried to hide it. My little sister saw me and said, "Look! You're showing already!" I sucked in my stomach and told her I was just bloated.

I asked my doctor about it. She confirmed that yes, a uterus has muscle memory and will sometimes expand more quickly after multiple pregnancies. I whined to my husband and to Brandi. I considered wearing only very baggy t-shirts. And then I won the print above and, for the first time in months, came to my senses.

Last year, Don and I lost two babies in a matter of six months. We had to wait to try to get pregnant. I have to stick needles into my pregnant tummy every evening to keep things going smoothly, and all of our prayers and pleas and doctor's visits have resulted in this amazing, miraculous, beautiful blessing. A pregnancy. A healthy pregnancy. A baby who is growing and measures large for his age, ahead of the game, who moves and kicks so ferociously that the sonographer couldn't capture his face on the camera.

Is it possible that I could be beautiful to Him, to the one who knew me all along, even when I denied He was real and opposed Him as often as I could? I have counted our losses as His grace. I count this newest child as a gift from Him. Swollen face, bruised belly, and all, I have to say that I am finally, finally, finally, starting to see that I am beautiful to Him. And, at the risk of sounding vain, to myself, too.