|This photo is on a cake. It is of my husband, me, and ten of our thirteen grandchildren|
A pain in my lower back caused me to cry out.
When it passed, I continued opening a can of yams. My husband and I agreed that we should make our Thanksgiving meal simple. We couldn’t drive the hour to feast with family because my third baby was due any day. Besides, my ankles stayed swollen, and I ached all over as though I had the flu.
Jami, now seven, helped me set the table, and she put the food down as I instructed. With the meal ready, I told her to tell everyone dinner was ready.
My husband smiled. “Canned ham, canned yams, and canned corn—our Thanksgiving meal came out of a can.”
I soft-punched his arm. “You said . . .”
He laughed. “Yes, I did. I didn’t want this to be too much on you.”
I winced again, this time from the pressure in my pelvis. It had been too much, but I wanted a Thanksgiving meal.
As we ate, my husband said, “Do you want to go for a ride later?”
I picked at my food with a fork. “That would be nice.”
After eating, Jason, Jami, and their dad cleaned up, while I elevated my feet. Ah, I thought, this is my treat and my time.
Four days later in early dawn, I woke to a slam and bump in my pelvis. “Ow.” As the pain calmed, I drifted back to sleep.
Too soon, the contractions began and kept me awake. I got up at seven, and by five-thirty that evening Joshua came into our world. Our funny little guy would add more love and laughter to our home.
I’m happy that I had three children, Lord. I’ve loved them with all my heart. Thank You. In Jesus’s holy name, I’m joyful. Amen
~Your Mother Memories~
~Your Prayer of Praise~
~A Scripture of Encouragement~