Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Sixteen Weeks

Disclaimer: This post is going to delve into my contemplation of death and suffering. So if you don't want to go there, you can stop reading now.

I'm sixteen weeks pregnant, now.

Starting to feel a bit better, though I still have my completely wiped out or nauseous days. (For those who know me pretty well, I'd put money on a boy.)

And for the past few weeks, I've been feeling the soft, sweet random flutter of life in my womb.

Sixteen weeks is as far along as our last baby made it, this side of heaven. And I have to say that the last few weeks have had me thinking about that fact. A lot.

We had a regularly scheduled appointment (complete with an ultrasound) at 11 1/2 weeks. By 13 weeks, I was terrified after a weekend of a low fever that something was wrong.  Went in for an unplanned check-up appointment and was happy to see that heart beating away in the ultrasound again.

But, by a day or two later, I was battling my fears again.  I'll have a sweet day, usually while nauseous and wiped out, where I'll feel a lot of baby flutters and feel happily assured that everything is good. But then I'll have a couple busy days, not feel much as far as baby goes, and start wondering if I'll ever actually get to cuddle this little one in my arms.  I'll spend my waking moments, falling asleep moments, and random times throughout the day, concentrating on my stomach and hoping to feel something. Anything.

I find myself shying away from talking about this baby, or thinking about March and our due date, and then I force myself to push aside my worries for the moment that it takes to post something on Facebook. My sweet husband, who also lost the same baby I did, patiently, graciously listens to me as I battle.

I'd love to be able to say to myself, "Don't worry!! You're just being crazy! Of course this baby will be fine. A second trimester loss was a complete abnormality... why do you think you have a greater chance of losing this baby now then you did when you were in your first trimester, when such a loss is so much more common?"

But, the truth is, we don't know that this baby will survive.  God hasn't promised us that, for this little one (that we've nicknamed CurlyQue), or any of our other children, either.  God hasn't told us how many days I have to live or my husband or any of our loved ones.  We honestly don't know. And we don't know what caused our last little one to die, apart from his (or her) ordained days coming to an end.

So that's where I have to capture my heart and my thoughts and return them to what I do know.  I don't know what tomorrow will hold, but I DO know that God knows tomorrow.  He knew it before the beginning of time, and He has promised that His grace will be sufficient, His mercies will be new, and He'll provide for all my needs.  I can rest assured, as with each of my blessings, that they are God's, first, and that He is a good and powerful God.  I don't know His plans, but I can thank Him for the fact that no matter what happens on this earth, He will never leave me nor forsake me.  And that He has made a way for me to have eternal life and security and joy in His very presence, because of what His Son has accomplished. For me.

I love, love, love Romans 8:28-29, and I know that whatever God's plan is for my future, He is using it to make me more like Jesus, and using it to show Himself, through me, to those who He is drawing to Himself. And I want that more than anything. Because not being like Jesus? That's the problem. I'm so thankful for His grace along the way.


Sharon said...

Beautiful and Amen! (and hugs) Love you, Curly Que, and #7.

Nora said...

I love you so much.

Stacy said...

amen, amen! such a beautiful encouragement for all of us! love you!

Lynne said...

Love you! And am so thankful for your heart! and that you share it with us!