I called my husband, crying my eyes out. If I’m honest, I was angry. We had made the responsible decision to stop trying. How did I get pregnant?! It usually took so much work & here it happened after one, half-hearted attempt?!
I had had a miscarriage merely one month prior. I wasn’t ready for this. I was worried because we hadn’t done the out-of-country treatments. I cried & cried. My husband simply replied, “I’m just going to keep praying. I think God can do this.”
That was all I had to cling. No new doctors. No new protocols. Just faith that God was sovereign over this situation.
One aspect counseling had covered is the idea that God chooses to allow us to have our backs against the wall during trials, so that when deliverance comes we know it came ONLY by His mighty hand. We all knew that if this baby lived, it truly would be a miracle.
The week I found out I was pregnant with baby number 15, my husband was out of town & our little guy got horribly sick. So I spent that entire week just taking care of puke & helping him rest. While he slept, I soaked in the Psalms. I mediated on Scripture & poured out my heart to God.
When I met with my counselor that week, he asked how I was doing. That week of rest & extra time in God’s Word was amazingly sweet, & I truthfully told him I was doing well. This pregnancy, the peace outweighed the anxiety.
That was about 31 weeks ago. Here we are at 34 1/2 weeks pregnant. A sweet, healthy baby boy moving in my tummy.
I marvel at how we got here.
The Misplaced Mom 
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