At 32 weeks my quadruplets were born. I had been on full bedrest for five weeks and partial bedrest since week 14 of my pregnancy. It was a day full of joy and celebration and they were the focus of all love and attention.
As everyone gathered to see them in the nursery, I was so excited to join them. I eased out of the hospital bed and tried to walk. I couldn’t. The muscles in my feet had atrophied, along with the muscles in my side and abdomen. So, I used a wheelchair most of the day. Each day, all I could do is take small baby steps, moving at a snails’ pace.
My feet were swollen and in pain, but I continued to take those small steps. I was the last one to any function or event as all the others could walk at a normal pace. I would say, “Hey, wait for me!”
Week by week, I began to take bigger steps and rebuild the muscles in my body. After a few months, I was taking my quadruplets on walks through the hills of Maryland, all lined up in a quadruplet stroller, one behind the other. I would take little breaks and then forge ahead.
In 2006, I ran a marathon. It had been 10 years since the birth of my children. Day one of training was me barely finishing 2 miles. I forged ahead remembering my journey of small steps after my pregnancy. It gave me courage.
I love planning and making goals. As I do, I remind myself to outline the small steps toward the goals or intentions. Sometimes I feel my heart and mind being flooded with worry and anxiety, questioning my abilities. This is a sign I can forge ahead with one small step. The one right in front of me. Sometimes, I can only see one small step, but I take it believing the next step will show itself.
After all, it may lead to running life’s “marathons.”
Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin. Zechariah 4:10