Our miracle

God is working.  Every day I see it, not only in my own life but in the lives of those around me.  He has so precisely laid out each of our lives, in only a way He knows and understands.  That doesn’t mean that there aren’t still times I question why things are the way they are, or wonder how He could possibly be doing this for our good.  Sometimes I can’t wrap my head around the possibility of a loving God allowing us to endure so much pain.  But ultimately, I always come back to trusting Him, and I know that His ways are good.

To say that every day gets harder would be an exaggeration.  I have good days mixed in with bad ones.  I can’t say that either of them outweigh the other but that’s besides the point.  I have the most incredible support system I could imagine, and I’m so thankful for their love and encouragement.  I KNOW we will get through this.  And as John so often reminds me, we will get through it together.  But that doesn’t take away from the obvious pain that we are experiencing until we get to that point of “through it”.  And maybe that’s an inaccurate statement altogether.  “Through it” would indicate to me that there is an end, another side.  I’m not sure that there will ever be an end to the grief, but I do think it will get easier with time, not so raw and consuming.

Consuming… that seems to be a fitting description of what the past weeks have been for me.  My mind is consumed by Ethan every second.  Probably because I feel him so much now, or because both of the kids are talking about him more.  Most of the time I am able to happily enjoy the time that I have with him, feeling him stretch, kick, and squirm.  And with every moment, I remind myself not to take it for granted, or complain about it hurting; to enjoy his hiccups every night as I lay down to go to sleep, and his sweet little kicks to my tail bone.  He’s so incredibly special and not for a single moment have I ever regretted our decision to leave his life in God’s hands.  We’ve been given a precious gift, and he’s taught us so much about faith, trust, and reliance upon Christ.  Many times I begin to think about the future, and the day of his birth.  And I’m scared.  All I can ever really put into words is that I don’t want to do it.  I don’t want that moment to come that I know is the beginning of the end for our precious son.  Of course, I use the word “know” like I can see the future.  We can all agree that’s not the case, but as much as we would hope and pray for a miracle, I don’t think that sort of miracle is what God intended for us.

Ethan is a miracle just as he is.  The creation of life is too perfect to be anything but that.  Although he likely won’t survive long after he’s born, he is alive now.  He may not be perfect for this world, but he’s perfect for the eternity that he will spend in heaven.  I pray for “my kind” of miracle… that Ethan would be made humanly whole.  That he would live a full and happy life.  But I also acknowledge in those pleas, that I understand it may not be God’s will.  I will only prepare myself for the most probable outcome.

I had a sweet visit with a parent from my daughter’s school the other day.  Right from the start she asked if she could touch my belly.  If I’m being honest, it really caught me off guard.  At first it was the knee-jerk reaction of “Oh no, she doesn’t know!  I don’t need to say anything, I can just pretend everything is normal.”  Until it hit me, just a nanosecond later, she DOES know… and she wants to rub my Ethan belly anyway.  There are no words to describe the gratitude I felt to this precious woman for acknowledging the reality of my pregnancy, and not pretending he wasn’t there.  I need our son to be recognized and loved, by more than just our closet friends and family.  I need him to be as real to others as he is to us.  I want to talk about him and have others accept him as he is.  I understand that can be a difficult idea but he’s not an imaginary baby, his heart is beating inside me and I can feel his beautiful soul with me all of the time!  Lilyan, thank you so much for recognizing and embracing our reality with such a beautiful heart! <3

I miss my dad… every day.  It still doesn’t feel real, and it’s been almost 5 months.  Nothing is the same without him, and I, along with countless others, would give anything to have him back.  It’s yet another one of the pieces of God’s plan that I just can’t understand.  I know I’m not meant to yet.  But I do pray that someday, hopefully sooner rather than later, I can get even the tiniest glimpse into it.  Anything to help ease the heartache of losing him.

As always, I thank you for your prayers… they continue to be felt and answered in so many ways.

4 thoughts on “Our miracle”

  1. Oh our SWEET Katie!!! What a beautiful writer you are. You are an inspiration to me and so many others What a BLESSING you are giving to us ALL, when you share your story. Your Dad is SO PROUD of you I know!!! LOVE YOU ALWAYS❤️😘Aunt D

  2. Dear Katie You are young but learning lessons of faith and perseverance that will carry you through the rest of your life. (James 1) I love you. God is good even when our finite minds cannot understand.

  3. Oh how God is using you even now as you share your deepest thoughts & emotions and thru sharing, others in turn share & the spirit of God moves on. You truly are an inspiration Katie. God Bless

  4. Angel, Angel, Angel! What an Angel you are! What a Blessing you are! What a Blessing and Angel Ethan is! Your heart, through your words, blesses my soul! Thank you My Special Angel!

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