I don't know how much I shared with y'all about the beginning of my pregnancy. When we went in for our first appointment we were pretty sure I was about 7 1/2 weeks along. When the doctor did the ultrasound my sac (what the baby was in) measured at 5 weeks. He said that there was a good chance I was miscarrying and prepared me for what to expect.
Something I have feared for so long was becoming a reality. I was told with my health issues, miscarriage would be a higher risk for me. But I was so excited that I got pregnant the first month trying-- I knew God had worked a miracle. But then why would I lose this miracle? Why would He do this?
That was a hard day to say the least. I sobbed the whole way home and then for the rest of the night. I felt that weird mix of emotions that Christians feel when you grieve-- deep sadness, peace, bitterness, hope... basically you name it, I felt it that day.
One of the things that have really stuck with me was something a good friend said to me that night. Emily called me and said something so good after I shared all my worries. She said: "Becky this means you are a mom. Moms worry. This is something you will have to surrender to the Lord for the rest of this baby's life and every other baby you have."
So many things brought comfort from that: First, I was a mom. Regardless of what happened with this precious life that didn't change that it was still my child. Second, worrying is a part of it. Something happens from the moment you see the second stripe on that test, this little life means more than anything else. I am constantly going to have to surrender my inclination to worry to the Lord.
I say all this because just 18 weeks later (i.e. yesterday) I found myself deep in worry again. It had been a couple of days since I felt Karis kick. Yesterday morning I was laying in bed and just praying about it. Praying if I should call the OB to see if this was normal. Praying that I would trust this life to the Lord. Praying against worry. And, of course, praying that the Lord would give me some really strong kicks that day.
And a few hours later I not just felt the kicks, I saw them! My tummy literally moved for the first time. That happened at least five more times that day.
I know that I am at 25 weeks and there is no guarantee that Karis will be placed full of life and health in my arms at 40 weeks. There is no guarantee that I will see her graduate high school or get married or have kids of her own.
But the one guarantee I have is this, and this is what I cling to:
This song says it perfectly: "You are the One" by Paul Baloche
You're the one who made the heavens You're the one who shaped the earth You're the one who formed my heart Long before my birth I believe you'll always lead me All my days have been ordained All your thoughts t'ward me are holy Full of love and grace
You are the one, you are holy You are the one, you are worthy You are the one, you are the one everlasting You are the one, I will worship You are the one I will serve all my days You are the one, You are the one everlasting You are the one