My current test of faith

The last two years I've been bamboozled trying to get used to having nine children.  I've been feeling very done.  Every now and again, Ladd will say something that makes me think he is too.  Along the way, I kept reminding Ladd that I really thought that Heavenly Father had more children waiting to join our family.  We just didn't feel ready.  One day when I was thinking about how overwhelmed I felt, I felt a whisper in my heart and mind, "When would you ever feel ready for 10 children!"  Heavenly Father had a point.  He always does.

In July of 2011, I found I was pregnant.  I went in at 6 weeks as per my new normal (reqired after an ectopic pregnancy) and found everything to be where it was supposed to be.  We were having a baby!  Two weeks later, I started bleeding.  As the bleeding became too much for me to handle, I headed into the hospital for some help.  As far as miscarriages go, I certainly accepted the result better this time around.  But, it accomplished something unexpected.  It re-enforced my feeling that I needed to get myself ready to bring another child into the world.

In January of 2012, I found I was once again pregnant.  This time I went in for ultrasound after ultrasound and HCG draw after HCG draw.  The results finally came in.  I'd had a molar pregnancy.  My body acted like it was pregnant, but I wasn't.  Then the kicker.  I had to go in for methletrexate -- a cancer drug that would kill all the pre-cancerous cells that were forming inside my body.  Once again, I felt relief rather than aching.  I just didn't feel ready.  But, I also came away feeling stronger than ever that Heavenly Father wanted me to have more children.

In April of 2012, during the General Young Women's broadcast, I felt a definite witness that I had little ones waiting that would serve in Heavenly Father's kingdom.  I started gearing up for what would come.

In June of 2012, I gratefully realized I was pregnant once more.  This time I was ready.  I started bleeding a few weeks after finding out my good news.  I felt powerless yet resolved to try again.  So.  I did.  In July of 2012, I found I truly was pregnant again.  I held my breath.  What an emotional rollercoaster this had been!  At 6 weeks, the doctor saw a blinking white space on the ultrasound and said he thought it just might be a baby. (He's delusional, right?!)  The next week, the doctor confirmed that it was indeed a baby and in the right place, too.  Hip, Hip, Hurray!!!

At 13 weeks, I went in for my normal doctor's visit.  The doctor couldn't hear the heart beat.  He turned on the ultrasound and announced, "Yep, it's beating." (I couldn't see a thing) AND "I think I just heard it for a second." (Really?  I couldn't hear a thing.  He's delusional, too? Or simply in a hurry to comfort a worried mother-to-be?)  My worried instincts bumped into high gear.  A couple of days later, I woke up in the morning strangely comforted.  I had had a dream that a lady in my ward had assured me that the doctors couldn't ever hear the heartbeats of any of her babies during her pregnancies, either.  Despite the irrationality of the dream, I felt the tender mercies of the Lord having sway in my heart.

A week later, I started hearing reports of women who had miscarried after the first trimester.  What if that happened to me?  For days, I worried.  Then, one day during my daily moving the house to the left, I picked up a notebook and leafed through it.  I came upon a few notes Cali had scribbled after my last priesthood blessing.  I was surprised to find it had talked about this pregnancy being a successful one and what I needed to do to make it happen.  Tears flooded my eyes.  What a blessing to stumble upon it.  The timing was fortuitous.  Another miracle.

Soon, a new worry took to the forefront.  I still hadn't felt the baby kick.  I stewed and stewed.  Once again I felt the tender mercies of the Lord filling my heart.  I had another dream.  This time I dreamed that the baby kicked me hard on my left side.  Even though I knew it hadn't happened, somehow it eased my troubled heart.   Soon afterward, I talked to my sister-in-law.  She thought she'd always felt hers kick later than she always expected them to kick.  My hope rose.  A few moments after we hung up, she called me back to tell me it was 18 to 19 weeks that her last baby had started to kick.  I felt grateful she'd taken a few moments out of her busy schedule to go the extra mile just to reassure me.

Well, I'm currently at 16 weeks.  There's miles to go before I hold that little one in my arms.  And, I don't know what Heavenly Father has in store for me.  But whatever it is, I know He is rooting for me.