I'll tell you why.
Yep. There are two new ones in our church (by new I mean less than a week old) and at least one more on the way. And let me tell you, they are precious. So, so precious. And it's doing strange and mysterious things to my insides, people. It's baaad.
Here's the crazy thing. When I stop and think about having more children-- actually raising them, educating them, feeding them, training and disciplining them, I am quite content with the two that the Lord has given me. We've been so blessed. One boy, one girl-- we've gotten to experience the beautiful differences between the genders. We have two children whose personalities could hardly be more different-- that's been so amazing to watch. They are healthy, intelligent, (mostly) obedient, curious and joyful children. What more could we ask for?
But, oh! the babies....
I'm going to blame it on my past. For five years I was blissfully immersed in the world of pregnant women, birth and babies. On a weekly basis I was blessed and privileged to participate in the emergence of a human soul into the world. It is a high like no other, my friends. To stand with a woman in that hour is an honor. To struggle along beside her in the greatest test of her physical and mental endurance that she will ever face, and perhaps in some small measure to ease her task. To put my hands on that tiny head and guide it out into the world... It makes me tear up, just thinking about it. The atmosphere of intimacy, the palpable excitement and anticipation-- to stand on the edges of that bubble, looking in on the miracle happening again, right in front of my eyes, as it has time and again ever since Eve gave birth to Cain-- well, words fail me.
Can you understand why I feel the way I do about these stories of deception and selfish motives and abuse of power? And words do fail me. I have started and abandoned at least three posts about the "Pit to distress" fiasco we were all talking about a week or so ago. I just cannot find a way to express the outrage, the pain and frustration I feel when I read about women whose trust is being betrayed during one of the most vulnerable and impressionable times in their lives. A time when they should be gently surrounded in a bubble of intimacy, excitement and anticipation. When their Caregivers--people whom they trust to care for them-- should be standing watchfully outside that bubble, waiting, enjoying from a distance and supporting with their quiet patience. Not bossing, barking, pressuring, obscuring, manipulating, threatening and cutting their feet out from under them. Who are these people? Why are they doing this? How can they violate these women in this way??
And so, I am restless and stir-crazy. Frustrated words bubble up from deep inside and spill out foaming onto my monitor, making no sense--no logical arguments, just sadness. Just regret. Helplessness.