But then, I felt that I should share my story. Someone approached me in church after my
minister made things public, and felt that I should blog about it—she thought
good or bad, I may be able to help another through my story. Come to find out,
though her circumstances were not identical in nature, whereas her story had
different plot twists and turns, she had been told her conclusion was the same—that
she too would not be able to conceive.
So I thought about it, and I prayed about it, and I thought
some more, and I prayed some more, and finally, I came to the conclusion that I
always say that I want to leave behind my writings…that I want to leave behind
a legacy of touching and improving the lives of others…that I want to help
others through my writing…so I decided…no matter what happened, I would tell my
story—the good times…and if they occurred, the bad…the highs…and the lows…and
then I prayed some more, and I thought about things pertaining to just the baby
itself, and I thought, “Who am I to feel dread? Really??? I have done the
IMPOSSIBLE! I am a conqueror! My name is
VICTORY! And I need to claim my victory, and DANCE! I dared to dream the impossible dream, and it came to pass!”
If you speak calamity, then it shall surely find you…I
posted those words on Facebook…and one of my former students, put them right
back in my face! She had no clue of what
I was struggling with, she just quoted me, “If you speak life, prosperity,
happiness, you shall have those. If you speak calamity, treachery, and
malevolent matters, then you shall have those as well, for whatever a man
soweth, he shall also reap.”
Apparently, I can give good advice, but I have a hard time
taking it!
I mean, now who was basically “laughing at God?” ME! I
was now playing the role of Sarah, and laughing at the angel. I was—though my doubts, and my fears—turning
my back on this awesome joy that been given to me.
This joy…that no one foresaw in my future… My doctors had all but written me off. The fertility doctor had said that he “might”
be able to help me, but that it would take a long time, and multiple treatments
(expensive and painful). My gynecologist was
preparing the paperwork for my either my hysterectomy, OR, a tubal oblation. My primary care doctor kept reiterating to me
how near to impossible it would be for me to conceive…and yet…here I am. In the early wee weeks, but still, I am
pregnant none-the-less.
I decided that I would treasure this pregnancy—morning
sickness and all, and blog about it…that in the end, I would be able to share my
writings with my children—the legacy of my unwavering love for them, and how
much they both mean to me. I mean, I may not have given birth to Matthew, but I
could not love any more than if I had! Shoot, if I didn't feel like someone in
my family would cause me physical pain and anguish, I would probably NAME the
kid Miracle, just to show my extreme joy…just kidding…or am I?
So leaving the doctor’s office that day, I had
scheduled my first appointment with my ob/gyn for later in the month, and my
primary care doctor had demanded that I see her in ten days so she could check
my blood pressure and see how the new medication was working.
And so with my new-found joy in my heart, I began to allow
myself to connect, and I opened my heart to hope, and love, and to whatever God had in store for me.
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