photo credit: photoposts blog


33 weeks and counting. Oh and believe me, I’m counting.

Pregnancy following a loss has been one of the hardest journey’s I’ve been on. Lately it feels like I’m walking in a desert toward an oasis. I can see the lush palm trees beckoning me to come and find solstice in their shade; the cool, clear waters of a little lake glisten in the distance. There’s even a hammock with soft pillows just waiting to cradle to my tired body. I’m close and I don’t want to give up, but I’m so incredibly weary. My feet feel like they are made of lead as I drag them through the sand. I know that I’m close, but somehow with every step I take it feels like I haven’t made much progress and it’s taking longer than I thought to get to the refuge.

Beyond the obvious shade and water, I have no idea what I’ll find when I get to the oasis. I hope with everything within me that the journey will be worth it; there is still the fear that I will have gone through all of this only to end up disappointed and empty-handed again.

Of the many mantras I have to recite to myself, these are the ones that seem to keep coming up-

The Lord is my rock, and my fortress

Keep going

Almost there

You can do this

The joy of the Lord is my strength

No matter what happens, I will always be this baby’s mother

Almost there

It’s hard, and there are some days where I wish I could throw in the towel and disappear. But it’s amazing how God always makes sure to send some encouragement or a distraction until my moment of weakness passes.

33 weeks and counting. Almost there, almost there…

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