|Mom knew just what I needed last week... an apple mint herb plant to help my nausea, and the perfect verse to help my soul. Thanks, Mom.|
"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and he rewards those who earnestly seek him." - Hebrews 11:6
When I first found out I was pregnant last month, fear crept in.
I wasn't afraid of becoming a mom, but I feared the remaining weeks and months of nursing school. What had I already been exposed to, not knowing I was pregnant? How was I supposed to safely finish school?
The risks are real. In the past few weeks, I've been asked to empty urine of a patient undergoing radiation (a pregnancy no-no), bathe a woman with suspected tuberculosis (uhh no), and care for a preterm baby with cytomegalovirus in the NICU (can't do that either). I've had to say "no" to all of these things and more, and it's made me feel like I'm working in a minefield, a risk at every turn. The fear has just kept building up, and then it turned to anger... "Why does my baby have to be exposed to all of this? Why right now when I have so little control over what I'm being exposed to?"
I frantically set up a meeting with a trusted professor, and when I listed all of these things that felt like such huge risks to the baby, she calmly said, "I hear your concerns. I understand. But I think this is all coming from a place of fear." She said she was more concerned about the stress and exhaustion I was going through, and less about the environmental risks.
She was totally right. There are certain things I can control... I wash my hands religiously, and walk out of the room when radiology shows up to do an x-ray. But the bottom line is that I wasn't trusting God that He was going to protect me and my baby. I didn't get it that He is big enough, good enough, strong enough to conquer all of these risks.
You know, the same God who began to weave together this baby's tiny body without any of my help or knowledge.
The same God who called me to the nursing profession and has provided every step of the way.
The same God who has allowed me to not get sick one single time from hospital exposure.
The same God who heals the sick, raises the dead, and holds every human life in the palm of His hand.
It is so easy to look at the circumstances and want to run and hide. I even (briefly) considered stretching out the rest of my clinical assignments so I wouldn't graduate in May. And I did this because I was afraid. I did it because I didn't trust God, that he loves me passionately. That He cares for the littlest fears I face. That He adores this baby.
I can't say I'm totally there yet, having perfect faith that it's all going to work out and be fine. I still feel anxious knowing that I have almost 100 more clinical hours before graduation, and uneasy when I think about 12-hour shifts away from the baby once the Fall rolls around. But then I have to remember, God's not going anywhere. He's staying right here with me and Shawn and this baby every step of the way. I find so much peace knowing that.
"But we do not belong to those who shrink back and are destroyed, but to those who have faith and are saved." - Hebrews 10:39