I remember the feelings I had when my wife and I found out that we were having a baby. She would tell you that SHE was having a baby and doing all the work. But until she writes her own blog, you won’t hear that. Besides, living with a pregnant woman is work. Lots of work.
Cravings weren’t too bad. I did want pizza constantly, but that worked out fine since she did too. Picking out possible names was pretty easy too, since back then names were limited by law to two syllables or less. Ultrasounds were a lot simpler too. The doctor just held a glass up to her belly and put his ear on it.
Doctor: I can hear the heartbeat.
Me: That was me. Taco Bell for lunch. ‘Nuff said.
We chose not to know the sex of the baby before it was born. You know, because we needed that extra excitement in the delivery room. As if my telling the doctor that “no one could possibly live through this” during the delivery wasn’t enough excitement. Video cameras had just come onto the market, but I opted out. I just didn’t see us inviting the neighbors over for dinner and a movie.
But the anticipation that built up toward the delivery date was fantastic. We couldn’t wait. This little baby that we had talked about (and talked to) for so long was finally going to be here. Yes, our lives would dramatically change. Yes, the responsibility would be huge. But our baby was coming!
So imagine you’re a young, unwed girl who just found out she’s pregnant. Is the anticipation there? Is the excitement there? Or is fear the overwhelming emotion?
Mary is just finding out that she’s pregnant. Pretty big news, considering the fact that she’s a virgin. Oh, and she knows that her baby is the Savior.
No earthly father. No ultrasounds. Just a young girl who has to tell her husband-to-be that she’s pregnant. Fear? Anticipation? Dread? All of them, I’m sure.
But put that glass on her belly and listen for a moment. You’ll hear it. The heartbeat of God. Over and over and over again.
Finished. Finished. Finished.