The test came back positive; two pink lines confirming that we are indeed running this course again. Im relieved. And terrified. I look out the window and follow the curved tree line hedging the field until I find the crepe, the bench and the stone angel.
Chanting scripture like a mantra to still my racing heart; casting cares, running for a Strong Tower, and begging for this baby to live.
Even still, I have little expectation that in less than 8 months time I will have another son or daughter.
We told them about you today. We debated on when to tell them, but you're here right now and growing, and if we have you for 20 weeks and then you're gone, then we will have one more chance to point our sons to Jesus, to Hope. My boys have hope. It resonated in their eyes in the seconds they first knew. They've prayed a million prayers for you to come and they have hope because He answered. They're dreaming a million dreams of you and praying for you to live.
Little one, I'm desperate for your heart to beat. I am desperate for you to hear your brother's rowdy yells and hear them singing and laughing and playing. I am desperate to carry you to term and fufill the vision of delivering you into the hearts of family and friends that have walked this road with us. I am desperate for your biggest brother to hold you in his arms and smile at me with that know-it-all look in his eye, because he was confident this momemt would come.
So tonight I'll choose hope, and faith, and peace. I'll choose to rest and trust that a year from now my fear will be faith proved.
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