Luck of the Irish….or the faithful


I want to say that I trusted.  I want to say that I believed.  But did I?  I do know that I had a peace about my adoption.  Or a sort-of peace.  I wish I could be one of those Godly women who say “as soon as I gave it to God, it happened.”  But that’s not how it went.

God has been ever present in my life since I asked him to be a part of it.  I’m sure he was there before, but when I was 13, I became aware of his presence.

For 6 years, I have tried to get pregnant.  And today, I am pregnant.  I am paranoid about losing the baby because of my weight or my health in general.  But I have moments of peace and strength where God reminds me to calm down.  It’s hard for me to trust because I have a control issue.  I am still so hurt by my dad’s passing.  I feel like I cried out from the bottom of my soul and God told me no.  So, it’s hard for me to believe that I’ve cried out from the bottom of my soul for a child- and now God is saying yes.  I don’t understand it.  I guess I don’t have to.  I am thankful.  I am beyond thankful- beyond happy and excited.  I am thrilled.  I am glowing from the inside.  Lord God, thank you.  Please protect this child inside me.  Help him/her to grow healthy and strong.  I will do my best to raise him to know you.  I will continue my adoption process- and be a mom to a child who needs a mom.

My story is unconventional.  I didn’t “give it to God- and then I got pregnant.”  God and I struggled daily with this.  We talked, we fought, I tried to ice him out a number of times- and through the daily trauma of infertility or adoption or jealousy or bitterness- God and I worked it out.  I don’t know the secret to faith or infertility.  I do know that I have a God who is daily present in my life.  Thank you, Jesus.  For always being there.