Letter to Our Baby, Part II

From: A Series of Promises, Part II

February 2017

Our Sweet Baby,

Things have been harder than usual waiting for you. Even as I’ve been trying harder than ever to cling to God’s promises of you, I’ve been struggling. I know this is just another test of my faith and patience. I know that you are nearer now than ever before, yet somehow, I still wonder if the promise of you that I cling to is real…

Since the night that God spoke His promise of you over your dad and me, my faith in that promise has been tested. I wish I could say that I never waver, but sadly, I’m still human. I still falter, I still fail, and I still fall. And my vision of that promise had been reduced to a size that I could no longer see. Because regardless of how many times I’d said before that I’d be ready to hear those words when the time finally came, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to hear that I would probably never get pregnant.

The pain of hearing those words is hard for me to describe. I know that you are our baby. You are the one God has had chosen for us since the beginning of time to raise in truth and light. You are with us, even now. Even as I cry out to God and wonder if He is still listening, as I try to pray but cannot find my words. As I rely on the promise that He knows my heart, that He will intercede in times in which I cannot find words (Romans 8:26). Because I cannot find words to describe how it felt to hear that I may never carry you inside me.

That doesn’t mean that we won’t love you if you are meant to come to us in a different way. Because we will. We will love you with our whole hearts no matter how you end up coming into our family. I know that even if you are out there now, waiting for us to find you, waiting to be loved, that you will come to us in God’s good and perfect timing, through His good and perfect plan, and you will fit perfectly in our lives. You will fit perfectly in our arms and in our hearts. You will be loved with all the love we can give, with all the love that has been building up inside us, with all the love that’s ready to spill over as we wait for you.

It’s been nearly a month since my doctor told me. Though he only told me what I already knew to be true, I felt blindsided. As he mapped out my journey from here on out, the choices I should make if I want to have the possibility of carrying you inside me, I was terrified. Fertility treatments, shots, bloodwork, tests, monitoring, hoping… This journey could last as long as I wanted, I could take it as far as I could, try as hard as I was willing… Still, you never know. Still, I may not ovulate at all. Still, it might not work. We’d cross that bridge when we got there. We’d take it one step at a time. We’d start out slow and easy, then increase gradually. It was our choice to make, but if I wanted to be pregnant, if I wanted to ever carry you inside me, this was now my life. Like it or not, it was the road I was now on.

The emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on since has been exhausting to say the least. One minute I could feel completely fine, because maybe we aren’t supposed to have you now. Maybe this all is for a reason. Maybe we just didn’t seen the bigger picture. Maybe God has greater plans for our family. I know all this to be true. But some days, I couldn’t bear the thought of not having you now. I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to carry you. I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to love you yet when I feel so strongly that we could love you so well now.

I’ve cried for you many times. I’ve tried to be positive, but often found myself in overwhelming negativity. I’ve tried to be accepting of this. Because some women are not meant to carry their own children, and that’s okay. And I know that I will be okay regardless. I know that we have the hearts to love any child God places in our path. But it’s been hard, because that doesn’t change what’s on my heart. That doesn’t change the fact that we want to love you now.

God has been asking me to pray for you again. He had been asking me to pray for you since it all happened. To pray and ask Him to give us you. To pray with faith, to believe in faith that He is going to give us you. To believe in the promise He’s given me of you. To ask for what I want in faith, believing that He will answer. I feel His answer nearer now than it’s ever been. And that’s why it’s been such a struggle for me to pray and ask Him to give us you. Our baby. Because what I want is to have you now, and again, it’s been so hard for me to admit. I want to carry you inside me.

God’s promises are greater than anything in this world. All the world knows is what it’s always been. What’s natural. What our bodies tell us. What doctors tell us. And I know what the doctors are telling us. That I probably can’t be pregnant. That our road from here on out will probably be difficult. That if what we want is for me to carry you inside me, then we will have to fight for it. But they don’t know God’s good and perfect plan for my life. They don’t know His plan for our family. They don’t know miracles. They don’t know the promise that God has already spoken over us. His promise of you.

I don’t know what that looks like, but I know now that I don’t need to know what it looks like in order to believe in it. I don’t need to know what it looks like for me to believe in you. And as I fought to pray for you harder than I’ve ever fought in my life, as I cried out for the Spirit of God to intercede for me, to know the words on my heart, to pray those words for me, I heard Him. He told me that it was okay to hurt. I could let myself cry. I could cry out to Him. And He has heard me. He has healed me. He is healing me still. And what that healing looks like, I still don’t know. But I don’t need to know in order to believe in it. I don’t need to know in order to believe in you. 

And in my sadness, in my pain, I’ve found renewed strength. Because God has told me not to give up. This is not an end; this is a beginning. Our beginning. Our family. Because you are with us, even now. Even though you aren’t physically in our arms yet, you are already here. And you will be for the rest of our lives. We will love you. We will raise you to the best of our ability to be a child of God and a leader of your generation. We will love you with the love of Christ. We will keep you in our hearts. Because you are ours, and you will always be. Our baby.

Love always,

Mom

---

“O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me.” -Psalm 30:2