Joy of My Heart

I've mentioned my music and my desire for ministry. Now on to the third "M" of the series, that has recently shot up to the number one occupancy of my time and energy for the past (can't believe it's already been) 4 months: my pride and joy, Mr. Matthew Elliot Frei.


I must admit, I had a challenging pregnancy. I didn't have the roses and ecstasy, blissful choir of angels experience that some women (may they realize just how blessed they are) have. I had wretched morning sickness, crippling migraines, sheer exhaustion, a mental battle against hating myself for putting on all that weight (after a lifetime of dieting), a loss of control over my own body, all in the midst of a full-time job (which, granted, was also a joy). There were some bleak moments when I simply couldn't see the end of the tunnel, and thought I would be pregnant and miserable forever.



My due date, May 13th, came and went. It was morning and it was evening, and it wasn't good. Not even an imaginary contraction could I sense. All I wanted was to be done being pregnant, and have my baby in my arms and out of my belly. Matthew was a champion kicker, and my doctor thought he was at least 7.5 pounds, so it made for a rather uncomfortable existence for the last 2 months.


The 14th came and went, and then, finally, on the morning of the 15th -- literally, at 2am -- my contractions (or at least, what I thought were contractions) began. At last, I experienced some of those angels, shouting HALLELUJAH at the top of their lungs. The end was in sight. 29 hours later (yes, you read that number correctly), my beautiful baby boy emerged to greet a brand new day.
Matthew Elliot Frei. Born May 16th, 2009, at 11:07am. Clocking in at a whopping 8 lbs, 14 oz, and 21.5 inches long. My baby boy. And all the wretchedness of my pregnancy, all the agonies and challenges I had endured, simply melted away in light of his beautiful charcoal eyes.


I can honestly say he was and continues to be worth every last second of misery I endured. Which is NOT to say that pregnancy was all awfulness and horror. It wasn't. I particularly cherished every little kick, every flutter, every hint that he was alive and well within me. But the Lord had to do a lot of healing in my heart to get me through, healing that had nothing to do with the little life I bore. Healing of years of looking at myself in the mirror and basing my feeling of worth on how small my waist was. Healing of years of basing my worth on a little red number on a scale. Yes, I was that girl. But I am not that girl anymore, praise Jesus. I'm not all there yet, but I'm on my way to peace.


But on to happier days. My little man baby is now a GIGANTIC 19 lbs, and I don't even know how long he is now. How I got through the first week of his life, only the Lord knows. I'll write more of that later, but ladies, let me be the first to warn you if no one else has: NURSING IS NOT EASY. It is NOT something instinctual, that your body simply does. Sometimes it's hard. And sometimes it's simply heart-wrenching. But that'll be a future post.

Matthew is a super champ. He has been a smiley baby since day one, has bonded with his daddy beyond my expectation, and never fails to captivate my heart a little more each day. He can roll both ways like a pro, loves to sit up and look at the world (with a little help of course), nurses unbelievably (the kid is like a bottomless pit), and revels in his alive-ness. And his daddy can make him laugh like no one else. They are buddies and have formed an alliance in which no girls are allowed. And can I just say, I am so ok with that. It takes a real man to show his love for such a little one.


I love my Bubbers with every beat of my heart, and I can't fathom life without him. I hold him at night after feedings at such ridiculously early hours, and I can only stare in wonder and breath him in. He's my little boy and I hold him a little closer every day. I never knew you could love like this. But my heart was created to love him unconditionally, totally. Just when you think, "Ok, I have to have reached my love limit," the Lord reaches into your heart and just totally stretches it and says, "There, now you're that much closer to loving the way I do."

Just a little taste of what motherhood has been like for me thus far. I'll get more into my own challenges soon. I respect and pray for all women who have endured postpartum depression, and thank God that He did not call me to that particular cross. But I've had my own fair share of crosses. And I think that in sharing them, they become a little lighter, more manageable. I hope my experiences make it just a little easier for someone else, even if just to know you are not alone. May God alone be praised.