First ultrasound…

I changed my prayers the morning of the ultrasound.  Instead of praying, “God let this work out and please intervene.”  I prayed, “God please don’t let me turn my back on You should this be another bad story.”  I have this fear of something so bad happening in my life that I blame God.  I guess I felt in a sense that maybe God owed me a decent life because I have a relationship with Him that is real.  It’s not some fake bunk that a lot of people think Christianity is.  I’m not perfect BY FAR, but I do talk to Him every single day.

I am doing staffing work right now so that took my mind off the morning of the 7th.  They knew I had to leave at 10:30am for the appointment.  I met my husband down there and walked in.  My anxiety was skyhigh reliving it all.  My brain WANTED to reply back the moments of January.  I kept trying to block the memories.  Finally, the ultrasound began and immediately it was different than the last time.  There was one embryo and it measured 6 weeks 2 days.  (One day ahead) and the heartbeat was immediate.  I was in awe.  I think hubby was, too.  There wasn’t much to see… but here’s our hopeful child:

The next ultrasound is on September 24th at 1:30pm at 8 weeks.  Hoping for another good day.

In the meantime, I’m very tired.  I feel just a general sense of malaise most of the time now.  I’ve gained about 3 lbs, but mainly because I’m overeating.  Not good.  I’m wondering if I’ll be one of the ones to develop morning sickness, but it remains to be seen.

I do thank God for not allowing a bad ultrasound this time.  It felt like a tiny victory.

Another day of fear…

This is getting old.  I am on the golf course today, having one of the best rounds of my life, and all I can think about is how I don’t have any pregnancy symptoms.  I start the mental thread of how can I trust God to help me through this?  How can I trust Him to make this pregnancy successful, to intervene if He needs to… how can I when He failed me the last time?  When I was sitting on the couch the last week of January crying my eyes out to Him to intervene… prove Yourself to me one more time, please?  And He did not.  He stayed back where He is and didn’t speak to me.  He didn’t tell me that He had a reason for this, and I felt alone.  Did He really make a difference in my life in the past six months?  I like to believe that He did… but why can’t I have an encounter like no other with Him?  Why can’t my faith be proven just to me?  I want to focus more upwards and not from side to side on my life.  I want to believe MORE.  And, today, I’m believing less.  I’m feeling lost and out of control.  I’m feeling alone.  What if this is yet another miscarriage about to happen?  What if this is another loss and another coping thing where I will lose another 20 lbs and another breakdown?  Will DH be able to handle it this time?  This one will be the one to really scare me because it will rattle the very core of my being. 

“I have enough faith for the both of us.”  My mother told me before she left the last time.  I hope you do mother.  I hope you do.

Fear…

I hate fear.  It grips my heart, and I have to really fight it with all kinds of different things.  Tonight, I arrived home after work and got really cold.  I had chills and immediately started thinking about low progesterone and if this was indeed a viable pregnancy again.  I was really wanting to stave off those thoughts, keep them at bay.  I don’t want to imagine the worst because it means that I don’t trust God.  But I trusted God last time, too, and we all know what happened.  I pray for more symptoms, I pray for morning sickness, and I pray for it all.  Today was the worst.  Symptoms almost gone.  I had chills.  So, all I can do is to just trust God.  That means not trusting it’ll work out and we’ll have a baby in May.  This means trusting God regardless of the outcome:  miscarriage or newborn.  I trust the outcome.  Somehow, I have to believe this.