About a week or so ago a friend on Facebook asked if anyone believes in miracles. Without a doubt, I believe in them.
Eight years ago today I wasn't feeling quite like myself. Since I would be turning 40 in 9 months, I just chalked it up to my age. I thought for sure I was getting ready to head into that next "stage" of my life. All morning long I kept having this nagging feeling that it wasn't my age, but that I could be pregnant. Just the thought of that made my laugh.
You see, my husband and I had tried for years to become pregnant. When it just wasn't happening, we decided to see a specialist. Long story short, after a three year period of two different specialist, six rounds of Clomid along with artificial insemination and failed IVF's, we were finally able to welcome a beautiful little girl into our lives. We were so delighted we decided two years later to try again. However, it just wasn't meant to be. At eight weeks of pregnancy, I miscarried twins. After many more tests, one of the top ten fertility specialists in the United States stated I was too old and would never be able to get pregnant again, much less maintain a pregnancy to term. We were devastated.
We went on with our lives, but there was always a nagging feeling that our family wasn't complete. We prayed continually for another child. Maybe we needed to adopt, but the doors weren't opening for us in that direction. I finally turned it over to God. I remember saying that if it wasn't suppose to happen, it wouldn't, but that God knew the desires of my heart and that was to have another baby.
Fast forward to December of 2002. We were asking our then 4 year old daughter what she wanted for Christmas. She said a baby brother or sister. We sat her down and tried to explain to the best of our ability that it probably wouldn't happen, especially with Christmas about a week away. I'll never forget her child like faith saying "My teacher said if you want anything, you should pray for it. So I'm praying for a baby." And the subject wasn't mentioned again.
When lunch time rolled around that New Year's Eve of 2002, I decided to make a quick run to the grocery store and take a test. Imagine my shock and surprise when that test was positive! After nine years of infertility, the Lord had answered our prayers. I'll never forget my husband's reaction that night when I handed him a gift bag stating I knew what I wanted to do for my 40th birthday while he pulled out a baby bottle.
This is where our CDH journey started. Going through all of the ultrasounds, medical tests, surgeries, hospital stays, etc. did not sway me in the least on my belief in miracles. I had already experienced one and I knew there could always be more. And there were more, but we'll save those for later blogs.
So when I am asked if I believe in miracles, I say a loud YES! I have living proof that miracles still exist. Do you believe? I hope so.
Happy New Year everyone!
I believe in miracles. They happen all the time. I was in such a bad place at one time in my life. Bad enough that God showed me his face to let me know that what I was hearing was truth. I will never forget that. I don't tell many people about this. It is enough to get carried away in a straight jacket unless you are another believer.
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