My 14-year fear of needles was crushed
the instant I decided to go to the hospital after I discovered I was bleeding five weeks into my pregnancy. I didn’t have time to wonder at this new development; I just wanted to make sure my baby was okay. What preconceived notion I held of discomfort meant nothing to me if my child’s life was in danger.
I went through the hospital maze, feeling overwhelmed, sometimes near tears, sometimes just wanting someone to understand that I was new to all this and I never liked hospitals anyway. My husband could not be with me because of COVID-19 restrictions. All I had was my Jesus and my baby. I ended up having to do two blood tests, a urine test and two ultrasounds. Test results came back. My baby was fine and the pregnancy continued as if none of the stress of that day had happened.
Later on in the same week it dawned on me how everything had changed. Before my pregnancy I had been very afraid of needles, injections, blood tests. For some reason, at 16 years old this fear had found a way in, and during my early twenties I went through a series of panic attacks stemming from a fear of needles. At 30 years old, this was the first time I had ever done a blood test without family or friends with me. Something had changed. It wasn’t the nurses. It wasn’t the environment. It definitely wasn’t the needle. It was my mindset. All of my thought was bent on my baby being okay. All of the sudden, that old fear that said, “What about me? How am I going to do this? Is this going to hurt?” got thrown out the door. Fear of needles didn’t matter anymore. I was going to do what I had to do to ensure the health of my child. End of story.
At the original writing of this blog entry, I was just a bit beyond 5 weeks pregnant and that hospital experience had taken place only a couple of days prior. But there are some moments in life when you know, you actually get to know that everything has changed. From here on in life will never be the same. I knew that the changes are irreversible as I rubbed my belly and talked to my baby, and that was okay. I knew that eventually labour was coming and I was not going to give it even a little chance to become a fear. Why? Because the reward is so wonderful. I would do whatever I had to do to bring my baby into this world. To hold him in my arms. Pain was nothing for the joy that would be.
Jesus thought like that about us. He did his first miracle, knowing what lay ahead, knowing there would be great pain. It didn’t matter. Carrying that cross just didn’t matter and he despised the shame because of the joy that was to be. He decided to do whatever it took to be able to hold us in his arms. He loves us just like that.
We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame.