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Almost seven years ago, around this time of year, I was about to embark on a journey that I had no clue awaited me. What started as a surprise pregnancy in law school turned into a struggle to get pregnant, stay pregnant, and have babies.
Almost three years after the fact, my blessing finally arrived in January 2009. Fourteen months after that, dreams were dashed again, only to be once again fulfilled in January 2011. Three miscarriages, two sons, one story.
Five months after Charlie's birth, I felt led to share in church about how God had blessed my life. How He had been so faithful in my darkest hour. After service, I was stopped by a man I didn't really know told me how much my story had touched him. Another woman told me about her friend who was struggling with these same issues and a friendship was formed. Two years after that, my path crossed an acquaintance who I began to connect and chat with about her difficulty with having a baby as well. She suffered two miscarriages. And each time, my heart broke for her...because I knew just how she felt. A short time later, her blessing arrived. In December 2011. In the form of a bouncing baby boy. And that man who had been touched by my story? Her husband.
Months before he even knew this would come about in his own life. The other friendship that formed was a quick bond. I watched and prayed with her as she continued to suffer over the child God didn't seem to want to give her. A miscarriage. Then a few years later, she hears my story that Sunday. Another miscarriage. And another. We lean on one another as we each suffer through what were our third miscarriages. But my second Miracle arrives. And so she waits. and waits. She wonders WHY in the world would God do this to her. She wonders if she will die alone or why God just won't give her the one thing she so desperately wants. She tries medicine and treatments. Her struggle now turns to get pregnant and even that doesn't happen. A family struggle and all extra efforts for a baby stop. She focuses. She prepares to move forward. To progress. And in an instant. Two lines. Seven years in the making, her miracle is on its way in April - a bouncing baby boy. No treatments, no medicine, just the Healer and Finisher of our Faith. And so I send up a Thank You to Him. And tiptoe out of the rooms of my sleeping miracles and know that my suffering was not in vain. Our journeys are not our own.
“The best things are never arrived at in haste. God is in no hurry; His plans are never rushed.”
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