On December 13th at 15 weeks pregnant, my water broke. It was two o’clock in the morning and I thought my pregnancy was ending at that moment. The emergency room had even scheduled a D & C before getting a hold of the OBGYN on call.
But my baby girl had a heartbeat. The OBGYN said that as long as my baby girl was alive & there was no infection, the pregnancy could proceed. The chance of Faith surviving until she was viable was about 5%.
I was sent home to wait and see if my baby would live or die.
Faith lived in my womb for nine more days. The lessons I learned during those nine days grew me more than the thirty years before them.
I learned that I don’t control anything except the way I react.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t save my baby. I couldn’t control what happened to her. All I could control was how I handled what was happening to my baby and to me. I could react with anger and bitterness, letting it fester inside of me and becoming a bitter, mean human being. I could react with depression, curling up in a ball and hiding from the world.
Or I could react with courage and trust, knowing that whatever happens God has a plan, He has only good for me, and I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
The choice is up to me.
I learned the importance of daily time with God.
When my water broke, I hadn’t been spending time reading my Bible. I hadn’t been spending time in prayer or worship. I’d been busy doing “Christian” things, like leading a bible study group, teaching in the toddler room, & hosting a women’s Christmas party. None of those things are bad…but it’s not what God really wanted from me.
God desires relationship with us. He wants us to read His book, speak to Him in prayer, and listen to Him. I began praying and reading His Word daily. God impressed upon my heart to memorize Luke 1:45-47, which is the Scripture I repeated to myself as I delivered my dead baby girl into the world. God prepared my heart for what He knew was going to happen. If I hadn’t taken the time to build that foundation with God again, losing Faith would have been much more devastating.
I learned how amazing and important my church family is.
In those nine days, our church family surrounded us with so much love and support. They visited, prayed, signed up to provide meals, hugged me, cried with me, and laughed with me. Finding a good church family is so important!
I learned it is okay to tell God I’m angry.
I was upset. This was my miracle baby, the baby that was prayed into me. This was the baby I’d prayed and tried three years to conceive. I was angry that God would let this happen when I’d waited so long. A good friend reminded me that God was big enough to handle my anger.
So I talked to Him about it. I told Him I didn’t like what was happening, that I was scared, and that I wanted my baby to live. He already knew that. He listened and He wrapped His arms of love around me.
I learned that prayers are answered.
Maybe not in the way I wanted. My baby died, despite hundreds of people praying for her. But when she did die, God was there every step of the way. He comforted. He placed people and Scripture in my path right when I needed it. He supplied all my needs. He reminded me that Faith’s life has a purpose.
Never, in all my life, have I felt closer to God than in the last two months. My prayers were answered because He never left me and He has not forsaken me. He has been my strength. My help came from the Lord.