Proclaiming the Miracle (An Announcement)

Because, dear readers, hope is a thing worth holding onto, there is this:

11 weeks, 5 days. Due to arrive in July.

My last miscarriage marks the beginning of this pregnancy. And for the literature-lover who sees metaphors everywhere, there’s something that seems poetic about it. This little life is marked by the pain of loss, and I mean that in the best way. I think of Jesus showing His scars after His resurrection: Do you see the miracle?

“For with the Lord is lovingkindness and with Him is abundant redemption” Psalm 130:7. I stood on that verse through the hard times, and I hold it close now.

In other news, I have been wretchedly sick. I get morning sickness really bad. Not bad enough to say extreme, as in daily coming into the doctor for an IV kind of bad… but enough to earn the adverb really that I attached the word bad. All day, everyday. Calling it morning sickness seems grossly negligent, and I am tempted to think some male doctor came up with the term so he could justify his demand for a home-cooked meal every evening. Fortunately my husband is understanding and has grown accustomed to the lack of cooking (and let’s not mention the cleaning) from me.  If my sudden blog disappearance was any kind of mystery to you, I think you now understand the reason.

Here’s the thing. Can I tell you how hard it is to be excited when you’ve been living where the worst keeps happening? How hard it is to be excited when you feel miserable? It’s felt a bit like my life has been under a dark cloud. Somehow in the suffering, I just don’t seem worthy of such a miracle. I’ve grown accustomed to suffering as a part of the Christian walk. But rejoicing? I think I lost it somewhere in the sadness.

I want to live brave. Not just through the worst. But after the worst. And let me tell you friends, it takes nothing short of sheer bravery to believe that God is for you and that He’s got you in the aftermath of loss.

And really, this post is me being brave. It is me rejoicing no matter how I feel, no matter what the future might hold. I am proclaiming that I carry life. I’ve seen the steady heartbeat, five little fingers curled up against a cheek, feet kicking… all in a two inch body. It’s a miracle. My miracle.

Squeee!

By Grace,

Amanda Conquers