New Life

I've slowly been making my way through this book the past couple months... ...because of this little one.

Meet the newest addition to our little family. God has given Josh and me another blessing. We're hoping and praying that this one makes it into our arms. I'm officially out of my first trimester now, so I can breathe just a little bit easier, though I imagine the third trimester is going to be even tougher on me than the first.

It's scary to be pregnant again after a loss. I fear I'm leaving Levi behind with this new life. I know it's not true, but there's this nagging little voice in the back of my head that plays on my fears. I was told to wait 9 months before trying to get pregnant again. I found out I was pregnant the weekend of Levi's 10 month anniversary. It doesn't take me long to conceive. So this voice in my head constantly berates my decision to try again as soon as possible. It tells me I'm a horrible mother because I couldn't honor the life of my son for a year without creating new life. I know this to be the voice of Satan; the one who wants to steal, kill, and destroy any hope of happiness in my life. I may know this, but the voice is still there.

I fear the words "no heartbeat." Those two little words had a devestating effect on my life and I'm terrified of hearing them again. Each and every time I walk into my doctor's office and climb up on the ultrasound table (and yes, I have an ultrasound every single time I go because my doctor is kind enough to understand that I need that type of reassurance), my heart starts pounding erratically with fear and I can barely find enough breath in my lungs to breathe. The moment I see my little bundle on the screen moving around with a strong heartbeat, my whole body relaxes and tears stream from my eyes. Each and every time. I don't want to go on like this through my entire pregnancy. I keep hoping it'll ease up once I can feel baby move.

I also carry the fear of my womb being a place of death. The human body is amazing and can do marvelous things, so I'm told. But my body, the part that is supposed to create and sustain life, failed. My baby died inside my womb. Nothing was wrong with him. He was beautiful and perfect and whole. Except his heart stopped beating before he made it out of my womb. I fear this fate for the little one growing inside me now.

I could go on with a list of my fears, but I won't. Because despite my fears, I am hopeful. I refuse to believe this little one's future will be the same as his or her big brother's. I dream about the day I hold this one in my arms. These next few months are going to be painfully hard for me to live through, but I am hopeful. For this reason, I beg you to pray with me. I still tremble a bit at the thought of prayer because I did indeed pray for my Levi and he was lost to me. I'm afraid to let go and give God complete control. In my irrational way of thinking, if I don't pray, I'm not giving my baby to God, and He can't take him or her from me. However, God has shown me that he does answer prayers over this past year. Therefore, I truly covet your prayers for the life of this new little one that now grows beneath my heart.