A miracle and a blessing

I've discovered a new trend in my life: I get really (I mean really) reflective around my children's first birthdays. Mind you, I've only had 2, but the same thing has happened both times about a month before the big day. In some ways I think I am finally coming out of the fog of the last year and can begin to see how this new little one so dramatically changed life and me. Part of me says I am just highly over-analytical and rarely content with things as they are. There is always room to improve, right? (Pause here to say that I am learning to enjoy today and to relax. It's a work in progress!) In other ways I think I am simply a silly girl who is sentimental to her core and relates so well to the verse that describes Mary treasuring all these things in heart. God uses these times of reflection to show me many things: how I've grown, where I need to grow, the blessings He's given, and most importantly how He's been there every step of the way even when I didn't pay attention.

Already being in this mindset, I was overwhelmed by a song a friend posted on her blog. You can see the video here. It is a wonderful song about the road of infertility. It took me down memory lane of our road which was really not as treacherous of a journey as it could have been. God kindly spared us a lot of the heartache and pain others experience. I am in certainly no way making light of our journey. It was hard. It was lonely. We didn't know how it would end. Unlike Job, I often blamed God asking why He didn't trust me with one of His children. I found myself angry and bitter toward others who got pregnant easily. I questioned God's plan when I found out the teenage son of a friend was about to be a dad. I tried to make deals. I begged, pleaded and cried until I had nothing else in me. Amazingly, the strain was minimal on our marriage. While not quite as dramatic as me, Clay longed and hurt too. We found comfort in each other instead of pushing each other away. While we felt many others couldn't understand, we knew each other did. God grew us during those years - through waiting, through testing, through results, through trusting.

As I worked on separating the kids into two rooms in January, two picture frames jumped out at me. For the first time, I realized how true the words are about our kids. My sister gave me the first one for the boy's sonogram picture that uses the word 'miracle'. The frame I bought for the girl's sonogram picture calls her 'our little blessing'. Our boy is our miracle baby. We had less than a 5% chance of getting pregnant without a medical procedure. Ferility drugs wouldn't help our situation. We were waiting on timing to begin our first procedure when we found out we were pregnant. MIRACLE! What we thought might never happen did through the hand of God. Then a few weeks before his first birthday (and about 9 months of not being very careful), God took my breath away when we found out we were pregnant again. Not only had He given us the desire of our hearts with one child, He chose to give us a blessing with a second. I was speechless - and that's a big deal for me. God reminded me He was MUCH bigger than the box I often try to fit Him in.

Sadly, there are times I forget the miracle and blessing these two are. I get selfish and tired and frustrated. I raise my voice. I complain. I whine. I cry. And I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I'd rather lose sleep every night than not know the joy of comforting my child. I would rather sound like a broken record than never hear, "I love you, Mommy." I would rather feel unseen and unappreciated than never watch my kids faces light up when I enter a room. I'd rather be the woman I am today than never know the highs and lows of the road we walked. And I'd rather die than do any of this life without God.