Thanksgiving

Yes, Rosalie looks like a boy here. And yes, I guess yellow is not as gender-neutral as I thought before I had a girl, but nevertheless, this picture makes me incredibly thankful.

Almost exactly a year ago, Nathan and I were in Rome, and I was just 6 weeks pregnant. Rosalie was probably only the size of a tiny bean, but I was so excited to be pregnant, and I couldn't wait to meet our little one.

We wanted to get our baby something from our trip because we wanted to make sure that we remembered that he/she was there in her own tiny way, too. So we picked this yellow t-shirt from Rome, because we thought it would work no matter what gender our baby was (But I think the day I took this picture will be the first and last time Rosalie ever wears this little top! :)).

On the way home from Europe, about a week and a half after we bought that little shirt, I had some serious bleeding and was convinced that I had lost the baby. We were traveling and had no way of getting an ultrasound or going to the doctor, and when we arrived home in the states, it was a Saturday evening. All of the OB and family medicine offices were closed, and I was devastated.

I did not handle the situation very well at all. I was afraid, I was angry, and I didn't understand why God wanted to take away the little baby I was carrying -- who at 7.5 weeks gestation, was starting to grow her little fingers and toes. I couldn't figure out how losing her would strengthen me, and I refused to see how it could be what God wanted. Prayer was hard for me that weekend. Addressing a God I could not forgive felt impossible. I was ashamed at my attitude but struggled to change it. Saturday and Sunday were spent in tears and frustration, and on Monday afternoon, we were finally able to get an ultrasound appointment at an OB.

When the tech pulled up the ultrasound picture and showed me the little heartbeat fluttering on the screen, she broke into a smile, and I could hardly believe it. I had doubted and questioned God's goodness when I had no right to. And He was faithful despite my faithlessness. I certainly didn't deserve to be spared of that trial, but God was abundantly merciful despite my attitude.

I wish I could say that was the last time I doubted God's ability to take care of Rosalie and me during my pregnancy. I struggled throughout the entire 9 months with fear and doubt and the inability to take control of my situation. I hated that I couldn't see what was going on inside of me, that I couldn't make sure that nothing was going wrong. I had to totally and completely trust God.

Sitting here today, looking at the little bundle of giggles and smiles that God gave us in little Rosie, I can't help but overflow with thankfulness at His provision, His kindness to us, and His grace when I certainly didn't deserve it. The trials of pregnancy and fear of miscarriage helped remind me that God's ways are greater than my ways, that He doesn't work the way I expect Him to, and that even when I didn't trust Him, He delivered me.