Breath Held

I have not written a lot lately because I have been at a loss.  My heart has cried out so many words, but I could not find a way to make them translate through my fingers onto the screen.  I looked back on my past few blogs remembering how they were so close to the one year anniversary of Ethan's entrance into and exit from our arms and all the raw pain that raised again, and how in that moment I felt without but desperately clung to hope.  I remember that next weekend sitting out on the back porch with my husband reminiscing on a beautiful summer night and raising those questions, fears, and dreams that we seem to be only able to say to each other anymore.  All those crazy things that we quietly fear would make others eyebrows raise...  I asked my wonderful husband "What if God doesn't want us to have more children, what if this is our family story?"  He looked at me in his quiet confidence and said, "I have no fears about that, we are going to have more."  I felt hope and disbelief run through my soul at the same time and do a crazy dance there.  I thought on what my husband had said for several days; asking myself if I had that kind of quiet insistent faith.  I felt ashamed to say that I didn't - I still had doubts as to what God could and would do in our lives.  And that plagued me...I desperately wanted to lean into my Savior and believe but I was struggling.  Little did I know then, as I struggled with my faith, my God was doing what I had come to believe was impossible for us and had lost real hope of.  It is now a fact that on the day of that conversation, God had already begun the work of a possibility of a miracle in our lives.  As I write this I am 18 weeks pregnant, and holding my breath.  Believing that God is doing a miracle in our lives, and I am blessed to be a part of it.  Even as I endure the stress, the sleepless nights, the tears, fear, and hours of infusions I have to trust in my Savior because even as I hold my breath, He has breathed new life in me.