We were told we could “try again” in September. I felt like if I could just float my way through June, July and August, I could erase all of this. I could get pregnant quickly like usual, watch my thyroid numbers, make things right.

It was foolish logic. Fearful logic. But there I was. September rolled around and suddenly, every door shut in my face. When I heard “If you get pregnant again right now, you’ll likely lose the baby” I rebuked it. When I discovered my thyroid state right now would make pregnancy dangerous for me, I declared myself healed. Move forward! Press through! But when O so gently looked in my eyes and said he believed it wasn’t time yet, I felt betrayed. Betrayed by everyone. Because I needed to make this right.

During our quiet time that night, I could hardly talk through my tears and for the first time, I heard my thoughts out loud. “I’m already behind.” “I’m supposed to be this many weeks pregnant.” “The kids will have such a big age gap.” “What if I wait for my body to be in a ‘better place’ to get pregnant then we can’t?” So much fear. So much pride.

My mom lost a baby between me and my younger sister. I won’t say how far along she was because I’m sensitive to how many of you reading this right now are currently pregnant, but she was very far along. Well past what doctors and books declare safe. This was her fourth pregnancy, there was no explanation, but Cody was in heaven and not in her arms.

I remember her telling me she just wanted to “fix it” by having another boy. She’d get pregnant, have a boy, and thats when the healing would finally come. Well she got pregnant, but she didn’t have a boy. She had a girl.

And another girl.

And another girl.

…And another girl.

And this is it. We want to “replace” and “fix” or circumstance, God wants to replace our small idol and fix our hearts perspective. My arrogance tempts me to make plans and believe I deserve to see them come to pass. My fear tempts me to quickly try and rush and replace something that was taken when God has not given it back. It is my lack of faith to say my timeline is right.

James 4:13-17 first hit me hard when we were released from the Eagles right before the first regular season football game. It hit me hard again when we moved to Dallas with lots of plans and timelines in tow. It’s hitting me hardest now.

“Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” As it is, you boast in your arrogance.”

When people ask questions about baby Noah in heaven and future babies to come, my answer is now always some form of “if the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” It sounds like what some people call ‘Christianese,’ but I’m not ashamed. It’s a truth that has taken many moments in prayer to get to.  I’m not making elaborate plans to manufacture comfort or security. I am resting in the security of knowing my God cares for me. He knows how to story ends. He knows the desires of my heart and He is working all things together for my good and His glory. I believe I will carry a healthy baby full term in this womb again. I believe I will sway in the water, groaning and clenching, ready to bring that baby into the world. And I believe I will hold that baby in my arms. Until then, and even if not, I believe He is all I need.

 My mom and dad went on a much needed vacation after an intense season and that string of baby girls. When they knelt down to pray and thank the Lord, my mom broke down. She let my dad in on her scheme-her need to “replace” in order to “restore.” They prayed, offering every last one of those thoughts up to the Lord, and for the first time in a long time she felt peace.

Shortly after, they were pregnant again.

It was a boy.