We were newly married and I, more than anything, wanted a baby. He had just passed his one year anniversary from his last chemo treatment and I had been struggling and suffering from endometriosis for the past 4 years. Our doctors were not hopeful for us. We were even warned that our child could be handicapped in some way if the chemotherapy wasn't completely out of his system yet.
But God heard our prayer.
I had just mapped out our plan for trying to conceive when the positive pregnancy test came.
I wept and I sobbed. I couldn't believe that inside my womb, that very moment, a baby was growing.
I sent prayers up to heaven, asking God to hold that baby and help him to be born healthy.
And for months after that, I walked around with my hands cradling that growing belly. I tried to comfort my babe as he kicked, stretched, and had hiccups. I would sing him songs and tell him stories.
Comfort. Answered prayers and growing babe.
God knew better than the doctors who counseled us. 3 times he blessed us with children. 3 times He gave that comfort of expectancy. 3 times the pain of endometriosis subsided as I carried those babes in my imperfect body.
If ever I doubt Him, I remember this comfort.