Although I primarily use this site for wholesome eating, I have a story that I believe needs to be told. I am not overly personal to many people, but when I feel the Holy Spirit convicting me of something, I know better than to avoid it.

Last winter, we had an answer to prayer.

Dale and I had always dreamed of having a family of our own and I was finally catching up to him in agreeing that at 25 years old and nearly a year and a half of marriage was a good place to begin our family. We had so many wonderful adventures as a married couple, never really going through newlywed hardship, and I had savored all my selfish time of having Dale all to myself. I was excited to start this journey of babies and child rearing, especially with someone I’d been committed to for nearly ten years (yes we had been dating since 2006). I’m sure many couples fall into the thought process of thinking the second we begin wanting a baby, it would surely happen. Life got busy and as months past by, I thought it’s okay we aren’t pregnant yet, because now we can experience this! We had weddings, parties, vacations, and so much more that made the reality okay to deal with.

Fall 2015, our lives started to slow down and the absence of a baby started to sting. I wanted this now. I wanted to be like so many of these cute young families who were having adventures with their babies. In November, after numerous failed pregnancy tests, I in secret took and passed a pregnancy test. I had never experienced this feeling of disbelief, excitement, fear, and just being so stunned. I watched anxiously for Dale to come home to tell him the news. The test was positive, but we were so shocked, we took another one just to be sure. Like many couples these days, we decided to wait to tell our families since we had heard this was the safest thing to do. We spent four joyful days planning out the nursery, picking out names, looking at announcements, planning on how we’d tell our families (which included ordering t-shirts) all while fantasizing about our new family. We had prayed off and on that week, thanking God for answered prayers while we quietly celebrated our accomplishments. It was only a few short days later that we had a clear sign that this was not God’s timing for us. I had miscarried our first baby. The sorrow that comes with miscarriage is so hard to put into words and I cannot describe this to you unless you have physically gone through it yourself. I had felt emptied. Robbed of something that I had treasured so much. Dale was given unbelievable strength to comfort me, comfort that I now know only could have come from Christ. Instead of telling our parents we were having a baby, we had to share with them that we had lost a baby. It was so difficult and not at all the way I had imaged anything happening.

Holidays had faint pain as I had to deal with reality rather then the fantasy I had dreamed of. In January, our church challenged the congregation to read through the Bible. Dale and I had both decided to take the challenge. As months past, we were baffled at how many women all throughout the Bible struggled with conceiving. Children were prized, much different than in today’s culture, and passing down the family name and legacy was pivotal to one’s life. I knew that God had His on them, but I couldn’t believe how many times in scripture it had referred to God closing or opening her womb. I noticed that it never had anything to do with a schedule or family planning methods or even desire. Desire to further HIS kingdom. I had started to find myself with a new mindset. I didn’t want to have children for my own sake. Of course I still had a desire so strong, at times I would be overwhelmed with sadness. This was a desire that was driving me to His Word, His people for support, and fellowship with women who needed my strength as much as I needed theirs. Dale and I started to pray for children if God deemed it fit for our ministry here on earth. We had no doubt grown so much closer to God through this time. God knew that we could handle this type of trial and knew that good would come out of it. Although this truth was powerful and uplifting, we still fell privy to relinquish control that we had to give up daily to Christ.

In August 2016, we had felt more than ever at peace. We were both striving to keep our prayer for God to do what He desired for our family and that our longing would be for Him and anything of this world. We had planned vacations, spent time with family, and continued to fall more in love. Right before we left for Boston, a trip we had been planning for nearly five years, I took my second positive pregnancy test. As excited as I was to see two little pink lines claiming I was pregnant, I was scared. We spent our vacation dealing with my anxiety over the pregnancy. Each day, the fear became fainter and I clung onto the prayer I had prayed that we wanted whatever God deemed fit for our lives. We told our parents right away along with other close friends who we knew would lift us and our sweet baby in prayer. Our focus was much different this time as we humbly prayed over this child.

As I sit here, smelling the fresh Christmas tree in my living room, four months pregnant, I cannot tell you the joy I have. As I’ve shared this story with others, many have come forward to tell of a similar story. I don’t believe any of this is coming from a place of pity, but to bring awareness of those hurting. I struggled with telling people of our pregnancy since I know how hard it was for me and Dale to hear of yet another baby on the way. This is a story of God’s grace and provision. For us at this time in our life, it’s a baby. Last year, he provided a hunger for His Word that strengthened our relationship. I thank God for this pregnancy but  even more for the gift of His Son that He sacrificed so that we can have a relationship with Him.