Miracle after miracle

Today we had our first visit to the OB/GYN for the new baby. It was an appointment that, for me, seemed to be the turning point for a lot of the things on the horizon of our lives.

You see, normally I don't start feeling the yuck of pregnancy until I'm about 9 - 10 weeks pregnant. When I was pregnant with Elizabeth I remember, vividly, the 1st time I threw up. Christmas day 2003.

I'd felt FINE up to that point and was certain that I'd be one of those women who felt nary a moment of sickness while I blissfully carried a child inside me. (I have those friends and sometimes - like when I'm hovering over the toilet -  I hate them.)

My Mom made the best Christmas morning pancakes and I justified my overconsumption of them with the fact that I was eating for 2. Washing them down with a nice, cold glass of milk seemed to be the best idea I'd ever had. Until approximately 30 seconds later when I threw every bit of it up. Upon exit, the milk was still cold, y'all.

Awesome, huh?

With Ella I, again, thought that maybe I'd side-step the months of toilet hovering thinking that maybe she was a boy. I was coasting into week 10 and had only felt momentary nausea, but nothing to stop me dead in my tracks.

Then it hit me like a freight train and the next 14 weeks I puked so much that Ashlee would hover over the sink, make wretched noises and feign "growin' up."

So when the pregnancy sickness hit me this time right at about 6 weeks I was shocked and then perplexed and then stunned. The only other time I've ever been sick that early was when I carried the twins.

With Lucas and Ashlee, my body's 6 week alarm went off and the months of toilet hovering began. At the time I didn't really think much about why I was sick so much earlier than I was with my previous pregnancy. At my 13 week ultrasound, we found out why. Baby A (Lucas) and Baby B (Ashlee) put to rest any of the questions I had about why I thought I was dying due to lack of food.

Flash forward to about a month ago. I found out I was pregnant this time super early. Weird things were happening with my body and I just knew. When the nausea kicked in at 6 weeks, I naturally began to let my mind drift to the what if.

Twins? Again? Could it be?

So today came as sort of a turning point for Luke and I. I called my OB last week and all but begged the receptionist to ask the Dr if I could have an early ultrasound. Truth is, if we were having twins our July 2012 departure date for Africa could.not.happen.


(I have several markers for another multiples pregnancy. Previous multiples. Over 30. Some other marker I can't remember now. Drastic memory loss (ha, kidding). Multiple pregnancies. A SUPER early positive pregnancy test.)


Some days, I was okay with that. "If we have twins and can't go, I'm okay with that," I'd think.

Other days, or maybe in the same day, I'd think, "But if we have twins and we can't go, what does that say about the certainty with which I felt our calling? What does that say about all I know about how the Lord speaks to me?"

Over the last month, I've questioned God. A lot. I've questioned if He is who He says He is. I've questioned if He'll do what He says He'll do.

I felt today had the potential to be one of those turning-point days in my relationship with the Lord. If I saw two babies on the screen then surely something was wrong at the core of my relationship with God.

One baby and my heart would be crushed a little, knowing the joy of twins and longing for that again.

Maybe it's stupid to stake so much on an ultrasound or on the number of babies in my womb. In fact, it was.

But I still learned much about my God today.

As the wand swept across my abdomen and ONE tiny baby was revealed I saw a miracle. The flicker of that sweet one's heartbeat flashing back at me.

A miracle. One after the other. With each little flicker. One that I pray I will never take for granted.

I never ceased to be amazed by the mercy, character and love of our great God as he pours upon us miracle after miracle after miracle....