One year ago this week, this happened:
I had done two tests the week before and had gotten nothing. But, after my mom insisted, I did a third one a week later. This one was positive. I was shocked! We had literally just started trying for a second baby.
When I found out, I kept my mouth shut about it for a while. My main reason was I was actually not very happy that I was pregnant. I spent many a day arguing with God about the timing. How could this be the right time for me to be pregnant? After about a week of not wanting to be pregnant again, I finally accepted the fact that we were going to have a second baby. Whatever I had planned wasn't going to happen the way I wanted it to. I realized that it wasn't my plan to begin with. This was what God wanted, so I was going to carry this baby and do the best I could.
Little did I know that 5 months later, almost to the day, my water would break. At that point, there were more urgent prayers, this time to save my little girl. I rushed off to the ER and they transferred me two hours to the hospital with a level 3 NICU, knowing that the baby was going to be born early.
Every day in the hospital, I prayed for the strength to be able to last just one more day. I had several times where I couldn't see the monitor and they couldn't turn it up really loud because I was in a shared room. Those times were so scary because I didn't know how things were going. All I could do would be to lay there and stare out the window, praying that everything would be okay.
For some reason, when I started bleeding on the 27th, I wasn't scared. When the nurses started to congregate and weigh how much blood I was losing, there was no fear. I knew then that Princess was going to be born early. The only thing I could do at that point was pray. After they took her via c-section and rushed her out of the room to stabilize her, praying was the only thing left.
When they wheeled me into the NICU to see her, I don't think I actually saw much. I remember touching her little hand and I think I told her to be strong, not that she needed telling. She was so tiny, yet in that moment I wasn't scared. I wasn't afraid that I was going to be the mom of this little one. I just knew that things were going to be okay.
As the weeks past, and she grew bigger and strong, I knew I wasn't alone,. God was with us the whole time. When she came home on prescription formula because she could no longer tolerate the breast milk, I was fine with it. It was as if God had said, "You did what you needed to do." I had never really intended to breastfeed Princess, that is, until she was born premature and I was told I should pump as long as she was in the hospital. That became my goal.
She came home still having issues with choking. Not even a week later, we were back in the hospital dealing with the last of the milk allergy. We were sent home 24 hours later. One week later, we were back at the hospital, this time in PICU because of a heart condition. At that time I didn't know how I was going to be strong enough to be a heart momma. And yet, through it all, God has given me the strength to do that.
Now, she has been diagnosed with a rare disease, PHA2. It means all kinds of things right now: blood work, adjusting meds, food restrictions. And yet at the time she was diagnosed, I didn't know how I was going to do it. Yet through it all, God has been there. It has been hard trusting Him in times when I had no clue what was going to happen.
And even now, as I traverse this chasm of divorce and single parenthood, in the moment's when I think that I can't do this on my own, I am reminded that I am not doing this on my own. God is there. He's given me the strength to overcome insurmountable odds, so there is no reason I cannot do this now. I will overcome whatever life throws at me. I won't do it alone. God is always with me.