There have been many times throughout my life where I thought I was stuck in the messy middle of a storm only to look back and see the hand of God pulling me through. While it doesn’t feel good at the time and it’s too dark to see where you are headed, it is those times in my life that I feel closest to my God. I think that’s because when we are most vulnerable, we are desperate for a Savior. In our brokenness, the only place we can fall is on our knees in prayer. Looking back, our pregnancy journey (which seems like a lifetime ago) is no different.
I often say I should have had kids before working as a nurse on a high risk obstetric unit. Because I only took care of patients with complications during their pregnancy, I knew too much. I knew all of the things that could go wrong. I knew the diagnoses and the statistics. It was hard to imagine that any pregnancy actually goes “right.”
I will never forget the feeling when I first saw those two pink little lines, but I tried not to get too excited because I knew what could happen. I remember saying to myself, “if I can just get through this first trimester, then everything will be okay.” Once I made it through that, it was, “if I can just make it until 24 weeks, then he has a chance to survive outside of the womb.” After that it was, “if I can just hear him cry when he comes out, then we will have made it.” With each stage of the pregnancy, I let my mind run wild with all of the “what ifs.”
Around 16 weeks, what I thought would be an ultrasound to see his little face and hear his heartbeat, showed some concerns. There were bright spots on his heart and in his bowel, both indicating a possibility of genetic abnormalities. My heart sank. While I tried my best not to get too far ahead of myself, it was too late. I was already so in love with this little boy. How can you love someone so much that you have never even met? I remember talking to my husband saying that I knew I would love our child no matter what, but this just wasn’t what I had planned. I was sad. I was worried. I was overcome with fear.
We decided to have all of the bloodwork, all the tests, all the genetic screenings done just to be prepared. The weeks waiting for those test results to come back felt like years. I cried. I worried. I pleaded with God. And then I cried some more. Prayers were answered and the test results were negative. A part of me was relieved, but I still had that worry of the “what ifs” inside of me. Fast forward to the end of my pregnancy when the doctors found that he was measuring small. He was diagnosed with IUGR (intrauterine growth restriction) and thus began our weekly doctors appointments at the high risk clinic. I ate like I have never eaten before hoping that it would help him to grow.
A couple weeks later, though he was still measuring small, he had grown. Praise God! Again, I was relieved but couldn’t let go of the worry. Closer to the end of my pregnancy an ultrasound showed widening of the umbilical vein. The doctor did not seem too concerned but I did what I knew I shouldn’t have and googled it. I found out that this was also common in babies with genetic abnormalities. Again, that heart sinking feeling. Every answered prayer I praised God but still held on to the worry as if forgetting all the many times He had shown up in the past. It was like I was saying, “thanks for doing that God, but I don’t know if You can do this too.”
The same time that I was scheduled for a 38 week induction for the concerns seen throughout my pregnancy, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Heart sink. If there was one person I needed most during those first few weeks of trying to learn how to be a mom, it was my own. I remember saying to her, “Can we just put this baby on hold for a few more months so that we can deal with one thing at a time?”
There was one particular song that became my anthem during that time – “Famous For” by Tauren Wells. Still to this day I cry when I hear it. I realized that I needed to step back and just allow God to do what he has been famous for since the beginning of time — parting the waters, walking through the fire, shutting the mouths of lions, brining dry bones to life, curing cancer, making the impossible possible. Every drive to every doctors appointment, I blasted those lyrics, crying out to Jesus and clinging to His promises.
Looking at my perfect little boy now, I am just so amazed at His perfect timing, His great faithfulness, and His love for me. I don’t understand it and I surely don’t deserve it. I know not everyone’s story ends like mine. And I don’t have an answer for why that is. It’s not fair. What I do know though is that we serve a God who loves us. Sometimes He doesn’t answer our prayers in the way we want, but in the way that He knows is best. His timing is not an accident. He knew when my mom would be diagnosed and He knew how much we would all need this precious boy.
Harrison was born on October 30, in between when his Nana (my husband’s mom) passed away and was buried. I never got to meet her but I have been told that she used to raise one eyebrow just like Harrison does. I know he was sent to us as a gift from her and Jesus. I never want to take his story for granted or forget the hand that Jesus has had on his life since day one.
Harrison, if you ever get to read this, I hope you know how incredibly special you are. You have healed hearts and changed lives. You have given me purpose. You have made me better. You have shown me a love like I have never known before. You have been a bright light in the darkness. It is my greatest joy to be your mama.
a life worth loving 