It’s *not* cancer {a post mostly for the women}

I try not to live in fear, but the fact is, far too many people– far too many women, specifically– I love have sat in doctor’s offices and been told that they have cancer. We women walk around with this delicate gift that also carries with it the seed of a curse: these beautiful, life-bringing systems are all too easily susceptible to rogue cells. We know this. We understand the risks associated with simply being a woman. We have prayed for our sisters and cried with them as they’ve endured surgery, chemo, radiation, and any other in a long series of treatments that often seem only a shade less awful than the condition itself.

On an average day, I’m not swamped with the emotions of all of that knowledge. I am grateful to God for friends like Traci and Melanie, who are survivors. I am petitioning on behalf of many others, like Robin, who simply rocks a shiny head like nobody’s business. And if I’m honest, I am praying that I don’t join the numbers. Because that’s the thing with cancer. You just never know.

And then things go awry down there. And you just feel not right. And you’re sick from more than a handful of random yuckies that developing nations have to offer. And travel. And new food. And, ummmmm … perimenopause, anyone? And, yeah …. “Hello, forty!”

So I started to wonder. And the wondering grew into fearing. And the fear sprouted legs and led my fingers to google. Oh, good heavens. Don’t go there.

Because sometimes, it’s not cancer. Sometimes, it’s a perfectly healthy, if unexpected, thing like …

A baby.

Twenty weeks along, strong heartbeat, kicking and moving like mad.

That, my friends, is not cancer. It’s nothing to be feared.

In our house, it’s a blessing. Even when this is child number nine (too many!), the husband is still job hunting (you’re going to starve!), and life has been decidedly unsettled (you’re nuts!). Break out the sparkling cider and get ready to party, friends. Because a new human being is being knit together. God knows the plans He has, and even when we raise our eyebrows and think, “Ummmm, timing, Lord?” He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s not cancer. Not even close.