Well, you KNEW it was coming...

This will not come as a shock to anyone who is friends with me on Facebook. It probably won't come as a shock to the dozens of people I e-mailed either. So for the rest of the world, as of a week ago, I was put on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. I hit week 30 two days ago, and full term is 37 weeks...so I've got a ways to go.

I will write a little bit about what bed rest is like, in case you were wondering. First of all, my movement (standing or walking) is restricted to four hours a day. When my doctor first told me that, I was pleasantly surprised. Four hours seemed like a ridiculous amount of time. However, it has run out quickly every day, and if I even THINK about going over my four hours, contractions start up and I end up back at the hospital for a shot of Red Bull (at least that is what it feels like they're injecting me with) before I'm sent back home with stricter instructions to keep hydrated and for pity's sake to rest!

So I am still allowed to do things like shower, run MINOR errands (for me, this a trip to the library to exchange the large number of books I now have time to leave) and do very, very, very light housework. I'm actually having a hard time with the last part because now that my home LITERALLY is my world, I am finding a bunch of stuff to clean, fix, etc....which gets me in trouble physically. And I'm finding that if I DON'T take care of it while Chris is gone, my attitude towards him when he gets home is pretty negative, especially when I start listing off all the things that I have come up with.

What has struck me over the past few days is how OUT of control this whole situation is. I mean, I can rest, hydrate, take my meds...but this baby still tries to be born. And ultimately it is out of my control. When I first found out that I was pregnant, I rejoiced in the fact that I could make sure that I did EVERYTHING right. I made sure that I was taking all the vitamins that I was supposed to take, that I was eating the things I was supposed to eat (or rather, not eating the things I wasn't supposed to eat), that I was doing nothing that would make me look back on this pregnancy and wonder if there was something else I could have done to ensure that this child would....well, frankly....be NORMAL.

Because I am still, on rare occasions, plagued by a sense of guilt that my boys' autism was something that I inflicted upon them by just not being careful enough, watching enough, talking enough, not following the rules enough in pregnancy... And while I don't believe that about ANY OTHER PARENT, Satan still places it on my heart and mind with my own.

So in a way, this bed rest has been a big reminder from my one true God, the Creator of all, that I never was in control of the design of my children, that they are WONDERFULLY made, and that He is the ultimate mapmaker for their lives. I can plan whatever I want to, but ultimately His plan for my life and the life of my children is the one I am going to live out. And knowing that He is faithful, loving, a help in time of need, and my Ultimate provider, I will shout praise for this time of rest, and for the protection He has laid over me and my precious baby boy thus far. And what my little guy ultimately turns out like is no less than God's perfect plan...and that is beyond good enough for me.