Dear Baby

We had been trying to get pregnant for 10 months, and it felt like forever! Those 10 months were the hardest months of my infertility journey. I had not yet incorporated the new experience of infertility into my identity. After awhile it became such a part of who I was that it felt familiar to me, but then it felt like a huge, scary, monster with a wide, gaping mouth coming to devour me and nobody else.

On a Friday I picked up a home pregnancy test on my way home from graduate school. It was faint, but clearly positive. I told my husband that day, and we were excited, yet cautious. I had some spotting that night, but it stopped quickly.

A few days later I took another test, waiting to see a darker test line proving that the pregnancy was progressing. The line was still there but just as faint. I went for a blood test the next day.

"The test is borderline," the nurse said. I can't tell you how invalidated I felt when the nurse called my baby "borderline."

She told me I could expect to experience the physical miscarriage within 2-4 weeks. What? My baby is dead and I have to wait weeks for her to pass? But, God is merciful. It was over by the next morning. I went to brunch with a friend, to feel connected, and then got a pedicure. I picked a red color, but couldn't stand the thought of looking at blood red toes for weeks. I changed it to purple.

I wrote a letter to baby, who we named Noah, while I was waiting for the results of the second test. Here it is. It is not edited.

***

Dear Baby,

God and I love you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Your Daddy and I want you and love you so much.

The nurse says that you might not be real - that you might be something other than God knows you are - a person. I don't believe her, but I really don't know what to think. Only Jesus knows. See, it goes to show that God knows us and loves us more than anyone.

I imagine you to be bright and precious. You will have blue eyes like us. You will smell sweet and have a fuzzy head with a soft spot that we will kiss. I will rock you and sing to you. We will play and smile at each other.

I have barely had a drop of caffeine since I found out about you. I've hardly had any sleep, either b/c I have been too excited. I've mostly stayed away from sugar, too. I try not to push myself too hard at the gym, either, so you won't get too tired. You are just an embryo still, but you need to learn to pace yourself. So far, what is your favorite thing to eat? It's too early for me to tell.

I love you, Baby. I give you to God, Baby. Here is Your new child, Lord. I pray that you would let me be Baby's mommy on earth for a long, long time. I accept Your will, Lord. Amen.

***

We had a baby – in heaven. I'm so thankful. It doesn't make sense, not to some, but I still trust the Lord. How can I not? He has been so faithful to us.

Amy is a lover of life, music, and yarn. She is passionate about open adoption. Amy tries not to take life too seriously - she once took a picture of herself wearing a tiara in the fertility doc's office - but she is serious about pointing others to the source of all comfort, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Author Website: Blessed by Adoption & Birth

My Own Race

I was at church, sipping a latte in the lobby and watching parents wrangle their little ones -- getting them to Sunday School classes, answering questions, coordinating snacks and sippy cups and diaper bags.  And as I watched, I felt young, despite my 36 years.  Am I really an adult, without those responsibilities?  Aside from two furry dogs, I have no one depending on me for the essentials of life.

Then I thought back to my own heartbreak and pain and sorrow, and the growth that resulted from that.  These parents -- are they truly adults if they have not dealt with that?  If your illusions have not been shattered, if your heart is still in one undamaged piece, if you have not had the experience of longing for something for years without receiving it in spite of soul-wrenching prayer, can you really be a grown-up?



God nudged me, and I remembered: there is nothing to compare.  Hebrews 12:1 admonishes us to "run with perseverance the race marked out for us."  That means that God has a path marked specifically for me, and it doesn't work to try to run a race marked for someone else.  He didn't prepare me for some other person's race.  He equipped me for my own event.  The run is hard sometimes, but my Father is there to encourage me and help me.  Being on the path God chose for me can be hard enough.  How much harder would it be if I decided to be on a different road?  Sure, it might look better or more exciting, or maybe it looks easier or more grown-up.  But from here, I can't see the pot holes or narrow passages or detours that make it all wrong for me.



It is my job to run the race God has for me, focusing on my own performance in this experience.  Not to wonder about or wish for someone else's race.  Each one of God's daughters has her own course to maintain.  Thinking about each other's road will only get us off track.  God provides to me the experiences I need to grow closer to Him, and he provides you the experiences you need.  Because the Lord created us to be unique, our lives must also be unique, and that is by design.  God didn't use cookie cutters to create us.

He fashioned you to be different from everyone else.  Your path will be just as wonderfully individual.

A life-long Hoosier, Karen spends her time running, reading, writing, knitting, and rolling her eyes at her husband's bad jokes.  She blogs at Oldfangled.net.

Hold Firm

"He must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it."

~Titus 1:9