This is where your story begins…
It was a Monday, and I was pushing your big sisters in the cart at Target. I had to get more toothpaste for Lydia and passed the aisle with tests. I was a few days late, so I grabbed a two-pack Target pregnancy test and threw it in the cart, certain I was wasting money.
After the trouble we had getting pregnant with Charlotte, I doubted I would ever be pregnant again. I took the test that afternoon, and before I could even look away I saw it was positive. Immediately, fear gripped my heart. I wasn’t on progesterone like I had been when I got pregnant with Lydia and Charlotte.
I called my doctor stammering and not making much sense. She told me to come into the office for blood work the next day and started me on progesterone that night.
After the initial blood work looked positive, they scheduled me for an early ultrasound. We could see a sac and a fetal pole but no heart beat. I feared the worst. I cried and thought, “God, please not another miscarriage.”
In the middle of all that fear, my friend Lauren, who knew just what I was feeling, spoke life and light into me. Oh, how I wish every hoping momma could have a friend like Lauren. Her confidence and faith in God became my confidence and faith in God. She saved me from a spiral of paralyzing fear. She gave me the hope to keep praying. And a few days later we heard your heartbeat, strong and beautiful. And I cried big, joyful, relieved tears.
Your due date is Thanksgiving Day, a day I love already. Your daddy proposed to me the day before Thanksgiving, and I remember waking up Thanksgiving morning to the smell of my Papaw cooking sausage and biscuits and the sparkle of that ring on my finger catching the morning light. It seems entirely a God-thing that your due date is a day devoted to gratitude because that’s just what I feel.
God has given a word to me through each pregnancy since my losses. With Lydia it was hope. With Charlotte it was faithfulness. With you it is abundance. I pray I get to hold you, raise you, kiss your tiny toes. But no matter what, I love you fiercely. You’ve taught me much already about God’s abundance and about the power of hope over fear.
I love you, little Turkey!