Tuesday, August 3, 2010

For this child I have prayed

I am 6 weeks pregnant. It's so early, I know. My subsequent blood test showed my hcg increasing at 511% every two days (way above average), ruling out an ectopic pregnancy. Praise God. Tomorrow I will get to see the little english pea-sized being that is growing inside of me. Lord willing, we will see (and maybe hear) a heartbeat flickering on the screen. For this child I have prayed. Oh, have I prayed.

Life keeps interrupting my story. I guess that's a bit of an understatement. But what I mean is that I keep trying to hammer out the way things began and I can't seem to finish my thoughts. I'll attempt to now, before tomorrow changes everything. And I mean everything.


Read back to "Twinkles in Our Eyes" http://fryeswiththat.blogspot.com/2009/08/twinkles-in-our-eyes.html if you've forgotten how it reallly all began. In that post, I wrote something a little controversial to read... especially to family and those to whom we're close. In November of 2008 I had just found out I was pregnant, and desperately trying to make God understand that it was my wish to keep my dying grandfather alive. Two days later he miraculously made it through his risky operation, and I miscarried that baby. He stayed in the hospital for over 50 days and finally lost his battle in the middle of January. We buried him on January 20, 2009 and the next day I found out I was pregnant a second time. Unfortunately, that pregnancy turned out to be ectopic, and we lost the baby at 7 weeks. Oddly, you would think there couldn't possibly be another coincidence about life imitating life, and about the true, weird, undeniable circle of life. But this new baby, this little english pea, is due on my grandfather's birthday.

How funny life is. How funny God is, I guess. The week that I found out this time, I was struggling. I was struggling with my purpose. Justin and I- who rarely are at odds- were in a bit of a rut over decisions about career, life, etc. And we were both stressed. It didn't help that I had lost a bit of self worth since not being able to identify with a career path or passion, and I was truly searching- at the expense of my emotions, and sometimes his, I'm afraid. I had broken down with him on several occasions. He was leaving on business for the week, and on Sunday I said, "When you get home at the end of the week, I will have found my purpose." That Thursday, he walked in the door and I sat him down on the couch with the news. My purpose. What an honor. I can't imagine a better way to identify than taking on the greatest job of all: Mom. And best of all, I might finally be able to make him a Dad.

Flash back to three years ago. It was June and Justin was just returning from a flight school and we would finally be able to really start a family. I felt it was the perfect time for us. And in my positivity I just knew with all my heart that a March baby was meant for me. And so I prayed. "Lord, give me this March baby. I'll be big and pregnant in all the cold months and can cover up with layers. I won't have to feel swollen and bloated while it's hot outside. And the baby will be born just in time to take long walks in the spring and take in the fresh air. The child won't be too old for his grade, or too young. Yes, a March baby is meant for me."

For this child I have prayed. Way before I knew it. Due end of March, 2011, three years after I prayed for it. God really does have a sense of humor. How could He not? Did you hear what I was saying to Him?


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