This week, I had my 20-week appointment for Baby V.  We are having a beautiful, healthy little girl.  And can’t help making the déjà vu correlation between this baby and our first daughter.  We had a great 20-week appointment with our first daughter as well, and then she mysteriously left us just 4 weeks later.

But this time, it’s different.  We are going to a perinatal clinic for high risk pregnancy, who will see us in just 3 more weeks.  I am taking more medications than the first time around.  This little girl is being watched a little more closely.

But I also know that nothing is guaranteed.  That God can do amazing things with however this pregnancy will go.  And I feel the prayers that are surrounding my family right now.  I know that God will bless my family, and I trust that he has this whole situation in the palm of his hand.

So the way I deal with any fear or anxiety is that I take one day at a time.  I do whatever I need to do with the day that God gives me.  I relish in my pregnancy.  I enjoy the squirming I feel from my little girl.  I give into the nesting instincts and clean out closets (by the way, if anyone is interested in cross stich projects or some miscellaneous craft stuff, let me know).  I started praying first thing in the morning, before I even get out of bed, that God make my path clear that day, that he makes it obvious what I need to do.

This Friday, I woke up to the news of the attack on the police in Dallas.  Police who were protecting protesters who were protesting the recent shooting deaths of two African American men at the hands of the police in Baton Rouge and Minneapolis.  I am overwhelmingly heartbroken.  I am at a loss for words.  I am not going to try to pretend that I fully understand how African Americans feel or how any prejudicially targeted group in America feels.  But I do understand fear of loss.  I lost my daughter, and there are days I fear I will lose this daughter too.

But I hold on to hope.  I can’t let hope diminish.  I believe in a God who loves his creation.  I believe in a Christ who wept with his friends at the loss of their brother.  I believe in a Holy Spirit who lives within us and will embolden us towards peace.  I believe in the power of prayer, that God heard the Israelites in Egypt cry out.  I believe he hears his people crying out to him now.  I cling to these truths because they get me out of bed in the morning, they prod me to go forward, and guide me to what God would have me do one day at a time.