In the palm of his hand

In the palm of his hand

After so many years of not knowing if I’d ever be pregnant, I told myself that if the day ever came, I would appreciate and embrace every milestone, and that I would try really hard not to worry. Because if I was pregnant, that would mean that God had worked in big and unimaginable ways. If I was pregnant, that would mean that we had beat 10+ years of infertility (and the grief / pain that came with it). So why would I waste any time worrying when we had crossed the divide into what we could have only hoped for.

While we have embraced every change and milestone with glee, the worry has been a little more challenging for me to fight off at times.

With every step into the unknown, there’s the possibility for worry, and with every potential to worry, there’s an opportunity to trust. Even when it feels risky. As in, a high risk pregnancy. As in, we worked hard to get here. What if something happens? What if God brought us this far to teach us another (unwelcome) lesson on loss and grief?

When baby girl was just five days post-conception floating around in my belly as a microscopic blastocyst (it will never get old thinking back to how we got a front row seat to that), I would ask Shawn, “What’s the baby doing in there?” “She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing.” He’d say, with that firm assurance that I love so much about him. He said the same thing when I wondered, worried, or doubted what was happening in the first few quiet weeks of pregnancy, when I didn’t even “feel” pregnant yet. “What’s the baby doing in there?” “She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing.” And he was right. She was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She was growing.

Now, in my 32nd week of pregnancy, having seen so many beautiful milestones unfold before us, I still ask sometimes, in a shy voice, with his big hand suddenly making my big belly seem small, “What’s she doing in there?” I wonder if she’s moving enough, if she’s where she needs to be, if she’s growing on track, and I question what’s happening when all is calm and there’s no movement. “She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing”, he reassures me, knowing how many prayers are behind this belly, and the anxiousness we feel to hold her one day soon.

From day one, to a growing baby at 7, 12, and 16 weeks of pregnancy, to where we are now, she’s been in the palm of God’s hand.

Even when the hardships of the past threaten to make me fear the outcome of the future, she’s secure in God’s hands. I choose faith over fear, because no matter how we feel, or what risks play with my mind, faith trumps fear. If we allow it. So we take that, and walk boldly into the unknown of growing a baby we’ve prayed so hard for.

I found this swaddle blanket at Magnolia in Waco, when we were there last month. I love it so much. I love seeing her as a little embryo on this blanket, and her little ultrasound profile (sucking her thumb – SWOON), but I really can’t wait to see her newborn self on it. In faith, we move one more day closer to that day.

I love this swaddle blanket from Magnolia Market, and all the meaning there.

One thought on “In the palm of his hand

  1. I am so happy for both of you. I pray for you daily and am so anxious for that little miracle to make her appearance. She is a true gift from God as all babies are.

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