"But God remembered Noah." | Genesis 8:1
And even on the most difficult days, God remembered me.
If I knew three years ago what those next years would hold, I can guarantee you I would have said "No thanks." The Lord is carrying me through a story I never would have chosen for myself. One that has shaped me, one that has strengthened my love for Brent and become a foundation for our marriage.
This story that I would not have written includes gems like foster care and the fact that we have the most special little boy we've ever met. It includes spontaneous weekend adventures and trips abroad, precious time spent with my husband and foundational friendships. It includes building a business, and getting to watch it succeed.
It also includes chapters of tears and of mourning. The silence of barenness and the loss of three babies. Dreams that felt unreachable and a broken heart.
By my third pregnancy, Brent and I had decided that foster care was our next step (something I have shared about in the past). I felt settled and secure in our decision, even in the midst of unknown. I was fully throwing my heart into this new thing, and then one morning my world changed. "You're pregnant" quickly turned to "Something is not right," and so the story began all over again. We prayed for healing and for life. I said I literally cannot do this again. And then we grieved the loss of the child in my womb. The week of our third baby's shared burial, we welcomed a precious boy into our home.
And so our adventure began. Becoming a father and mother, loving sacrificially and all that comes with it. Two months later, with a one year old grabbing at my ankles, I stared at two very bright blue lines I thought I would never see. Isn't that how life goes? In the most unassuming moments, sacred things take place.
"Let's be cautiously optimistic," my doctor said at our first, very early ultrasound. And we agreed. Optimism seemed like a hard choice in the opposite direction of all the very familiar feelings that were stored away in my heart. So we proceeded with cautious optimism, week by week, seeing our baby in the correct location, growing and developing. The flicker of a heartbeat turned to an audible sound and with every stage I felt like pinching myself because, is this even real? First trimester has come and gone, and with it left my high risk diagnosis.
This may sound silly, but after all we have fought through I still struggled to embrace and share this pregnancy. I think that fear played a huge part in this hesitation, but I also felt weirdly insecure being "on the other side" of a feeling that was familiar to me for so long. Our journey of growing a family has given me such a sensitivity toward families experiencing similar circumstances. I don't understand the Lord's timing in all of it, why some women wait years to get pregnant, some forever and some don't wait at all. I don't understand loss and miscarriage, beyond the fact that in these deeply broken places there is an opportunity for full surrender and then resilience. I was talking through my thoughts with a friend, and with the following words she encouraged me to share.
So we are celebrating the life of our sweet miracle babe with expectant hope. Beyond thankful and amazed at our story, and counting down the days until April 3, 2018!!!!