I always knew I didn’t have any control on how my pregnancy progressed. I could only do my best to stay positive. I had told myself that every single day.
The premature contractions, however, shook me to the core (yes, pun intended). I was terrified. The mantra didn’t work anymore. All the spiritual books I read, the love of my family, my own grit – nothing helped. I needed something to retain hope. I needed to tell myself that I had done everything I possibly could to ensure the best outcome.
That meant action. How can you act to influence your body? Eating healthy, staying positive. But how can these bring you hope?
For me, the only way out was total submission to the will of God. To let it all go. And to think of nothing but Him. In moments of adversity this is HARD because that is when we question faith.
But then under bed rest, as a dependent for every need, the sheer powerlessness drives home fast.
You simply extend your dependence from human to the superhuman
So I started praying. I made a list of chants and prayers and songs. I set out reciting them twice a day, every single day. No. Matter. What.
That meant 6 hours of chanting a day. It totally consumed me. The talks with family reduced, my own free time to read or think reduced. All I did was pray because that was all I could do.
Prayer pushed out all thoughts including the negative ones. It streamlined my actions, gave me some semblance of control and most importantly, faith nurtured hope.
This was the final bonus. Getting the time and mental strength for packing a lifetime of prayers into a few months. For finding hope when life denied any.
How do you find hope in times of hardship? Sharing is one way. So please do share.
Acceptance Parenting 