A Woman's "Mt. Everest"

As D-Day gets closer, I've been feeling more apprehension and spending more time in prayer for the delivery of this little man than I remember with his sisters. As I was praying about it yesterday, it struck me that giving birth to a baby is a type of "Mt. Everest" experience for a woman. I won't say definitively that this thought came from God; but Adam and I have watched several episodes of Mt. Everest climbers this winter, and it dawned on me yesterday that although there have been a few women who have attempted the climb, they are rarely, if ever......mothers who attempt it. I don't think this is merely because moms are insulated from feeling the need to climb Everest from their built-in self-protection mode (although that would certainly play a part). I think it also has to do with the fact that any woman who has given birth has already experienced her own variety of "Mt. Everest." Yes, there are women who attempt the Everest climb, but they are few and far between, and don't usually seem to be mothers. Generally, challenging Everest seems to be a man's sport, and grows out of a man's need to prove he can endure intense agony and danger, challenging the "death zone," just to be able to experience a few glorious moments on the top of the world. I can't speak for every mom, but it's safe to say that for me, that Mt. Everest is simply not a big deal. I've lived through my own "death zone" and the glorious moments that followed. No mountain-top experience in the world can ever equate the absolute miracle and wonder of bringing new life into the world, and knowing you were part of that miracle, regardless of how painful and excruciating the journey to get there might have been.