If you are reading this, you will know who you are. If you never do, maybe I can help others to not make the same mistake I did.
You were that friend, the one who had a perpetual soapbox. You held that stance like a champ- no vaccines! no circumcision! natural birth for all!
Yet you were broken inside.
Two children brought into this world, neither of them the way that you intended; instead, under sedation and under a knife, full of fear and doubt. This haunted you. You were torn up by it, longing for a perfect birth, free of the assembly line nature of hospitals and doctors. I never understood- you actually had horrible feelings about your births! I kept thinking, 'You brought two perfect children into this world, yet you regret and look on those days with disdain.' It never made sense to me.
So when you got pregnant with another child, you were determined to have a natural birth, at home, unmedicated- and I began to hope you could not do it. I know, I sound like a mad woman (aren't I , though?), why should it matter to me? Because the whole time I was praying that God would let you finally see that it doesn't matter HOW but THAT they were born. I didn't out-right pray for complications or problems, please don't get the wrong idea, but in the back of my mind I wondered what would happen if you failed, and I prayed that if you did, you would come to grips with the beautiful thing that is birth-natural, unnatural, supernatural, whatever form it takes.
But then, you taught me a lesson, and put me in my place. You did it! Two days of labor, surrounded by your beautiful children, your loving husband, in your own warm home, you gave birth to a perfect baby! The day that I saw the announcement, I was humbled, and I'm not even sure that covers it. I was humbled, and awed, I was proud of you in a primal, motherly way. I teared up at your strength, your will, your maternal instincts.
I was humbled because I understood that God teaches us different lessons than we wish for sometimes. The lesson that He taught you was that you can do anything. The lesson you taught me was that you are so much more than I can be. I'm proud to call you my friend, and in the days to come, as you wait on little angel number four, I pray for you to have the strength to do it all over again.
Dear friend, I wanted you to fail, but you didn't.