Christmas is only four days away. It is hustle and bustle time. December is always a jumble with all the preparation for “the big day.”
This year, through all the hustle, I constantly find myself thinking back to this time last year. I always look back on previous years to see how I can/did improve but this year the thoughts go deeper.
This year, especially when I m holding my girls, I flashback to Saturday, December 26, 2015.
We had just gotten home from the usual four Christmases in Illinois and I decided to take a pregnancy test. Something I had kept myself from doing for months because of the despair that came from taking them week after week (along with ovulation tests) with no positive news.
I remember so vividly the feeling of giving up. The frustration that came from trying for over a year to get pregnant and having nothing but another miscarriage to show for it. The feeling of wanting so badly to expand our family and give my daughter a sibling but not being able to fulfill that longing. I remember the way it made me feel shut off from the ones I loved, especially those who knew the most about our struggle. There were so many times that I felt anger towards my husband and even my mother because they didn’t understand what it was like. I couldn’t “just not think about it” when it was what I wanted more than anything.
Sometime in September/October I let the hurt, frustration, and anger take over and I decided to not do anymore tests and to not let myself get my hopes up. Of course, I still thought about it all the time, but I wasn’t going to let it consume me (if that was possible.)
I took that December pregnancy test as a “told you so” to myself to stop the wishful thinking that was creeping back in my mind. Nathan was downstairs unpacking at the time and Bryn was asleep.
Then there was the moment I can’t stop thinking about, the moment I saw the positive sign and immediately dropped to my knees praising God with tears flowing from my eyes.
“For this child I have prayed” could not be more accurate.
photo credit: Ardent Owl Photography
I want all of my children to always know just how much they are loved and wanted. Blessed doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling. I cherish every moment I have with my girls. Even when the nasty threenager roars out “no” and the infant won’t stop screaming.
I am so thankful for my family (which I pray continues to grow) and the Holy family that was introduced so long ago.