Tears started pooling in my eyes.
“Are you ok?” the nurse asked gently.
“I just like to be more in the know and in control,” I managed to reply without turning into a puddle.
“Oh sweetie, you’re a mom now. You’re going to have to get over that,” she said kindly.
Five weeks pregnant and too impatient to wait for the standard first appointment scheduled nearly a month later. The at-home tests had all been positive, but I needed more proof, more certainty, that this moment I had been dreaming of was actually happening.
What if it were a false positive?
Surely there had to be a blood test or something else that would solidly verify that we were expecting.
I just had to wait and, other than the standard rules like not eating sushi or drinking alcohol, there was nothing I could really do beyond pray that this life which seemed so far out of my control would be safe and alright.
I would love to say that learning there was really nothing I could do helped me to hand the reins over to God and let go of my need for control over this pregnancy (and other aspects of life in general), but I haven’t quite gotten there yet.
Now, over halfway to our due date, and I am still praying to transition from Zachariah’s need to know attitude at the announcement of John the Baptist (see Luke 1:18), to Mary’s humble acceptance of God’s will at the Annunciation of Christ—even if it seemed unimaginable (see Luke 1:34-38).
I'm increasingly understanding that we might not be made mute, but that the desire for absolute certainty can still be paralyzing. I’m slowly learning that by holding too tightly to ideas of perfection or “the right timing” when it comes to things like beginning a creative endeavor, choosing a school, or even entering into our vocation we might limit our receptivity to God and the amazing things He has in store.
And if there is one thing I know for sure, I do not want to place a barrier to God’s love in my own life, let alone that of this precious babe.
This renown depiction of the Annunciation shows Our Lady's interior posture of acceptance and humility.
Sarah Rose is a small town Ohio girl who is obsessed with all things Ignatian and is passionate about faith, social justice, and the intersection of the two. She left Ohio in 2012 and after a year of service in rural Alaska, earning her Master of Divinity in California, and working at a Connecticut High School, is officially back in Ohio serving as a university Newman Campus Minister. When she’s not working, she enjoys contagious laughter, clever puns, and finding the good in all things. You can find out more about her here.