Cautiously Optimistic

When we were pregnant with Ethan I had a feeling, but didn't know that something was horribly wrong. This time I know that something is more than likely not okay, and yet I have to trust that the outcome will be much different. For three weeks now I have been spending 6 hours on Fridays in Sanford with an IV in my arm receiving IVIG, and I have 17 more to go. Each time the treatment starts flowing into my vein I breath a heart prayer hoping it reaches God's ear, a prayer that this will do what it is supposed to and keep this little one safe from my antibodies. I find myself begging God for this little one's health, and then I stop myself and think maybe I shouldn't beg. I have begged for the health of my children before and that hasn't turned out very well. So instead I try to find peace, and trust in the faith that I cling to. I wish that God would lean down and tell me that all will be well, but I haven't heard that audible voice and don't anticipate that I will. I don't know where we will be come February, will we be at home cuddling our little one and breathing in that new baby smell - sending peace to my soul, or will we be standing beside another open cold grave? These thoughts swirl through my mind daily, and I struggle to remain calm in this storm. Not only do I feel my own fears, but I have to also daily address the fears of my sons as they are cautiously optimistic about what is going on and what can be a very real outcome. We don't spend a lot of time planning for the coming of this precious child within, we spend more time planning how to breath through each day, and silently praying that there will be good days to come.