So here's the thing.
During the 9 months of my pregnancy I was miserable. I was nauseous 24 hours a day, tired all the time and extremely uncomfortable. With all that I became a crabby, crabby human being.
I also was very scared.
I was convinced something was wrong with me, with the baby, something horrible and awful was going to happen to me during labor.
I worried day in and day out, about what was wrong with me or the baby, worrying about what would happen. So sure that doom was lurking around the maternity ward corner.
So when Makenna was born, and she was immediately swept away to be shaken and stirred, cleaned up and processed, I cried.
I cried because she was absolutely perfect.
I cried because I immediately stopped feeling sick.
I cried because I knew my days of throwing up after brushing my teeth were over.
I cried because I would be able to sleep on my stomach again!
I cried because I was so grateful.
I cried because I learned again what I knew all along--that worrying is just as effective as chewing bubble gum to solve algebra.
I cried because I am so incredibly blessed in my life.