As tempted as I was to pursue further fertility help, we didn’t. We just pursued God. This looked like a LOT of Bible reading, prayer, reaching out to others who were hurting, and continually laying down my burdens at the feet of Christ. The grief was not easy to carry, but He carried me.
The closer I became to God, the more I learned about His character. I felt as Job had said in 42:5-6 – “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” (ESV)
God’s grace filled my life in a hundred different ways. I could spend days writing out all the ways He held my heart during this time, and all the lessons He taught me.
In seeing God, I began to see myself more clearly. I realized I wasn’t entitled to children. As a sinner, the only thing I’ve ever deserved was hell. What a merciful Savior Jesus is! He doesn’t give His children what we deserve. He gives us eternal life.
My heart was still broken, but my soul was at peace.
I begged God to take away my desire to be a mom if that wasn’t what He had in store for me. But as time went on, the heavy burden to try again would not go away. I was absolutely terrified to obey. The thought of grieving more babies felt too much to bear.
My doctor would check in. “Don’t give up, Grace. You’re not done.”
God kept prompting us to go forward, so we did. Three months later, a year almost to the day since we had decided to “wait on God”, I found out I was pregnant again. Baby number 7.
The Misplaced Mom 
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