Here I am switching sides of the couch yet again, trying to get comfortable, while my twin boys twist and turn in my womb. My ribs are bruised, my skin stretched tight, and my spirit is slightly downcast. I am in the final weeks of pregnancy, but the days seem endless.
There is a certain irony in this waiting for my due date, while the Church awaits the Feast of Pentecost… There is this feeling of desperation in my bones. As I waited for the ultrasound technician to arrive at my Biophysical Profile last week, I uttered ceaseless “Hail Mary’s” under my breath. As I pull a chair up to the icon corner each morning I lose myself in the eyes of Christ Pantocrator and beg Him to give me the strength to continue.
I am trying to remain positive about my pregnancy, but it is hard. I must say that I am thankful that I am still mobile enough to clean the house and snuggle with my girls. I am grateful that my pregnancy has been without any major complications. I am happy that Aidan and Gideon are both chunky and growing ahead of schedule. But still there is this nagging feeling that I can’t go on much longer…
Come, Holy Spirit, fill my weary soul with courage and strength.
Come, Holy Spirit, visit our world and bring us peace.
Come, Holy Spirit, and usher the lost into the Kingdom of Heaven.