Ordinary Miracle

As I figured it, I had three choices:
1) Adoption
2) Live without children
3) Pursue fertility treatments

Jeff and I wanted children. However, there was a limit to the amount of personal attempts we would try to produce our own genetic child. So we went forward with option #3. I never imagined that I would be going down this road of specialists, baby doctors as they are called. I was only 32. We had at least eight more years to get pregnant, right? I had no idea what was ahead of me.

It was a time in my life that I felt vulnerable, frightened and wary. All my senses were heightened. I was watching, waiting for something to happen. I didn’t know what to expect or how far to go. Like an explorer on an uncharted island, I treaded cautiously, testing the ground and marking my path. What would I discover? Success? Failure? And would the experience change me irreparably?

My faith was tested, too, I must admit. I’ve never felt further separated from God as I did during that time of my life. Would God approve of our pursuits to get pregnant? Were we allowing medical science to circumvent God’s plans? Would we be rewarded or punished? Did God intend us to be parents? I questioned, prayed and talked to God constantly. I listened for God’s voice in the darkness…and heard nothing. I felt lost and alone.

I was not the child you would find with baby dolls, bottles and cradles in my room. ‘Mommy’ was not part of my pretend play. I wanted to be a world traveler, to write books and to act on stage. Diaper changes, 3 am feedings, and bouncy swings did not fit within these plans. But here I was reading parenting magazines in my specialist’s waiting room, wondering if this time would be ‘the’ time when my life would be changed forever.

That year, we celebrated Christmas in Kansas City with Jeff’s parents. After Christmas service, while walking to our car in the cold, quiet darkness, I felt a presence. Almost tangible, I reached out for it. Suddenly, I knew. It wasn’t a voice that I heard, but a simple awareness that formed within my mind. I was pregnant. This third attempt had worked. Icy fear along with soaring excitement gripped me. It worked! Oh, my God, what have I done? I’m going to be somebody’s mommy. How will I know what to do? It was my Christmas miracle, my ordinary miracle, and I would take this journey one step at a time.

You see, I didn’t have to explore the world to seek new adventures or to find myself. Each night, as I kiss my child’s soft, damp head, I remember how far I’ve traveled from where I started. I find God’s miracle in the breath of life – both his and my own. I wonder what experiences the next day will hold. And I move forward.