All the Almost Mamas

In August, I found out that my husband and I are expecting our first little one. I am so full of joy. I can’t believe that I am really going to be a mom to a tiny beautiful human.

In that joy, I wanted to take a moment to publicly share the thing that is on my heart just as prominently as that joy — complete sorrow.

I am so incredibly sorry if this is not your joy.

I have known women that have suffered the devastating loss of a pregnancy, of their tiny beautiful human, of the possibility of ever having biological children, and I want you to know that I know how randomly, unfairly, and incredibly blessed I am.

I don’t take it for granted for a minute.

I know that it could have just as easily been me.
I know it with every fiber of my being.

When I first took that test, when I fearfully prayed and tried to trust God through the first trimester, and when I still worry and cringe at strange feelings, I know that there are women so much more deserving of this experience that have had and lost and that will never have at all. My heart breaks for you at the same time that I know that the Lord is doing something incredible and magnificent in your life that you may not even see coming yet.

I know that we serve a God that makes ways in the deserts and streams in the wasteland.

I know that when you have suffered, it can feel like nobody understands. When you watch women celebrate their engagements and marriages and pregnancies, it can feel like you are the only person left behind. It can feel like nobody knows or cares that the things that were supposed to come to you haven’t or may never come.

I want you to know that I know. I see you.

As I celebrate this little baby, I do so with the full knowledge that there are no promises. I know that disaster strikes without notice and everything you believe can disappear. I know that in this life, heartbreak is inevitable in one avenue or another.

I also know that there is a Great Redeemer who walks before and behind us, whom death is not a master of. I know that there is a story being written for me by a hand and a heart I can trust. I know that the same author is writing your story with eyes filled with love and that he has magnificent plans for you. I know that he will walk you through a beautiful life you never saw coming if you have enough faith to let him.

I know, dear one, that it is my turn to dance with joy, just as it will eventually be my turn to cry in mourning. I want to invite you to celebrate with me, fall in love with our (yours and mine) tiny beautiful human, believe that the God that calls each of us to victory and mourning in every season is not cruel or forgetful, but is always ever building our lives and our hearts to look more like his.

Choose to dance with me, even though your world is falling apart.

Know that I am crying with you, even though, in this season, it feels as though mine is finally coming together.

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