Leaning.

{written Thursday night}

I write this through tears, overwhelmed with fear, worry, anxiety yet all the while praying for & seeking peace.

I have the words of the doctor on repeat- "chance of miscarriage at 13 weeks is a very small percentage, some spotting can be normal."

Praying I am in the large percentage.

I felt this pain and worry before, but earlier in pregnancy. I shamefully admit that even after having three kids I didn't understand the depth of loss from a miscarriage- even one early on in pregnancy. Until it happened.

It was then I came face to face with the pain. It was then my heart was wrecked and I realized forget "love at first sight" love certainly exists WITHOUT sight. 

Love starts with those two pink lines. Instantly your mind wanders to the future.

Boy? Girl? Another brother or finally a little sister? 

What will he/she look like? Lots of curly hair like Isaac? A baldy like Aidan? A super sweet disposition like our first baby Emma?  

Will it be an Owen? A boy name we have had picked since after Isaac. Or will we need to agree on a voweled girl name? 

You begin calculating age difference and how those differences will land your kiddos in so many different life stages. 

You instantly picture welcoming fall with a new baby. Calculate age for its first Christmas. I can almost picture them all around the tree for our annual Christmas eve picture. Emma proudly holding her new sibling. 

Then in an instant all those "dreams" and things you wondered can be in jeopardy, if not lost altogether.

Just this week I placed updated photos of the kids in our living room photo wall display. I bought a fourth frame to match the other three in anticipation of filling it. I also ordered our most recent family photo for the mantle. Looking at the photo it seems empty. As though it needs an extra Stout. 

I pray it is to be. I pray for my heart if it isn't to be. I pray for strength, faith & an understanding of His path for us either way.

Worry has been an especially big battle for me the past 13 weeks. For my health. For the baby. I had just celebrated passing the mark of my last miscarriage. I was so thankful for the start of my second trimester. The easing of my obvious pregnancy symptoms. 

I blamed my worry on the wealth of information, stories and connectedness the internet & social media provides. I'm not one to go searching for worry. I don't Google to seek out horror stories, however I am much less naive than I was at 25 having my first. Oh how I wish I was still all rainbows and unicorns. 

But I have witnessed loss. I have seen family, friends & family of friends go through sadness, unexplainable loss, scares & illness that increases my gratitude for the beautiful, healthy children I have been blessed with, yet simultaneously plants seeds of worry. A vicious cycle I suppose.

These first 13 weeks I had felt like I was on guard "just in case". Maybe that's normal when your last ended in miscarriage. I even told Matt I would feel peace only when the baby burrito was in my arms. 

My arms are waiting. 

But then I'm reminded that none of us are promised tomorrow. I'm not promised tomorrow with the three babies I already have. Should this extra Stout baby burrito be placed in my arms in September- I'm not promised to have him/her for the duration of my lifetime. 

And well- that's why I need my faith. That's why I need hope from the only true provider of it. That's why I rest assured He has a plan and purpose for my life, my pain & my joy. All I must do is trust and lean on Him even more when my trust is lacking.

And so tonight I lean....