Blessed.
Yesterday was probably one of the most difficult days of my life over the course of the last few years. In my previous post I had mentioned that a friend from my Bible Study was being induced. At the time, I had little information to go on, and I thought the news was primarily all good. It was not.
She and I have a unique relationship. Two years ago we were pregnant together, only weeks apart, and we shared our joys of early pregnancy. Then we lost our babies, weeks apart, and we mourned together. This year we could hardly believe our timing and blessings as we were pregnant again, one week apart. She is 10 years older than me, and her pregnancy was especially a blessing to be praised, as it defied the statistics. We all felt the hand of God was in her unexpected miracle.
We've shared our pregnancy cravings, activity, and ailments throughout the last nine months. We were thrown a lovely dual shower by our Women's group. There was to be a great rejoicing around our two little ones next month when our Bible study resumed.
Yesterday, I found my husband and myself in the NICU stroking the tiny calves and forehead of my friend's newborn son, and praying over his tiny frame with her husband. He was only three weeks early. He was 3 lbs. He should have been full term. He should have been full of health. He was not. Somebody should have known or seen these problems on an ultrasound. No one did. There were no warnings. No signs. I should have been shedding tears of joy. Instead, I was fighting the urge to hit my knees right there in the room in grief.
Despite it all, this child was a miracle who had made it so far, who had survived every odd against him. He was born alive, pink and beautiful. He responded to our touches. But short of numerous miracles, he will rejoin his loving Father soon.
I haven't cried this much since my father and I held the hands of my beloved grandmother as she passed into heaven. Not even over the loss over my own pregnancy two years ago. Embracing his mother, praying with his father and having the unexpected invitation to love on this child, just weeks away from my own pregnacy was beyond difficult.
I am ashamed of my last post. Within hours of writing it, I was regretting my words. God quickly revealed a hard truth to me. For many weeks, the mothers of the twins have been making difficult and long trips to the hospital just to be with their newborns. Many have been on bedrest. Few January pregnancies have been without their difficulties. I am the exception.
How can I issue an ounce of complaint? The Lord has protected my health and baby Faith since the day of her conception. I have had the joy of still being able to care for my family, and stand on my own two feet without a moments concern. I have learned that to stand at all, and go home with a child in my arms is a blessing that, until now, I have not fully understood.
I am blessed. Forgive me Lord.
I am blessed. I am so very blessed.
Thank you Jesus.
She and I have a unique relationship. Two years ago we were pregnant together, only weeks apart, and we shared our joys of early pregnancy. Then we lost our babies, weeks apart, and we mourned together. This year we could hardly believe our timing and blessings as we were pregnant again, one week apart. She is 10 years older than me, and her pregnancy was especially a blessing to be praised, as it defied the statistics. We all felt the hand of God was in her unexpected miracle.
We've shared our pregnancy cravings, activity, and ailments throughout the last nine months. We were thrown a lovely dual shower by our Women's group. There was to be a great rejoicing around our two little ones next month when our Bible study resumed.
Yesterday, I found my husband and myself in the NICU stroking the tiny calves and forehead of my friend's newborn son, and praying over his tiny frame with her husband. He was only three weeks early. He was 3 lbs. He should have been full term. He should have been full of health. He was not. Somebody should have known or seen these problems on an ultrasound. No one did. There were no warnings. No signs. I should have been shedding tears of joy. Instead, I was fighting the urge to hit my knees right there in the room in grief.
Despite it all, this child was a miracle who had made it so far, who had survived every odd against him. He was born alive, pink and beautiful. He responded to our touches. But short of numerous miracles, he will rejoin his loving Father soon.
I haven't cried this much since my father and I held the hands of my beloved grandmother as she passed into heaven. Not even over the loss over my own pregnancy two years ago. Embracing his mother, praying with his father and having the unexpected invitation to love on this child, just weeks away from my own pregnacy was beyond difficult.
I am ashamed of my last post. Within hours of writing it, I was regretting my words. God quickly revealed a hard truth to me. For many weeks, the mothers of the twins have been making difficult and long trips to the hospital just to be with their newborns. Many have been on bedrest. Few January pregnancies have been without their difficulties. I am the exception.
How can I issue an ounce of complaint? The Lord has protected my health and baby Faith since the day of her conception. I have had the joy of still being able to care for my family, and stand on my own two feet without a moments concern. I have learned that to stand at all, and go home with a child in my arms is a blessing that, until now, I have not fully understood.
I am blessed. Forgive me Lord.
I am blessed. I am so very blessed.
Thank you Jesus.
Mama Knucker Hatch @ 8:39 AM
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