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I have always been afraid of losing a child. I’ve seen people lose children in their wombs, in early childhood, and much later as well. It is an agony I have prayed a million times I would never have to experience. 

With each pregnancy, there was a bit of fear under all the joy. I begged and pleaded with God to let me carry my babies and birth them and have them be healthy. With Lauren, having to go on bed rest amplified this fear. With Ethan, it really just lingered at the beginning. Crossing 12 and 20 and then 30 weeks with both seemed to push that fear further and further away. 

This time it has continued to linger and has taken up more space in my mind and my heart than I had realized until yesterday. I finally talked with Rob about it while we were driving. Long drives are good for that. 

I expressed how much I realized I was afraid in a very real way how possible it was that we could lose Hannah or Matthew (not sure who is in there yet), and I had let that steal peace and joy from me. 

I know so many people who have had miscarriages that the commonality of it is more than just a statistic in my mind. I love these people and watched them hurt through it. It was a pain I felt my heart could never recover from. 

After facing this fear and seeing it for what it was, I had a very real scare last night. As I got into the shower in our hotel room last night, I slipped. This is never good, but at 16 weeks pregnant, it can be devastating. In that split second the word TURN was all I could think, and I spun and grabbed the handle and spun to where I’d fall on my back and not my stomach. I got around and banged my lower back and right hip on the tub and stretched and pulled my wrist, arm, shoulder, and neck on the right side. 

I heard Rob call, “Are you ok?” I was in shock and pain immediately so I couldn’t move or speak. He was in the bathroom a half second later to help me sit down in the tub. I rinsed off and got out. 

As soon as my feet stepped out of the tub something happened. An almost audible voice said to me, “Do not be afraid. I will protect this child.” I immediately bowed my head and thanked God. 

In a moment where my fear could have easily been realized, that one word came and saved me: TURN. It didn’t just save me physically, it saved me from fear. I am not called to turn to my feelings. I am called to turn to my God. 

As I stepped out of that tub and received more from God I was filled with a peace that has completely driven out an almost inperseptable fear that was really hurting me in a deep place in a slowly eroding way.

Just like every other moment in my life, I was protected, but this moment came with a promise that is bigger than any lie or trap the enemy could lay for me. My God keeps His promises and I am not afraid or a captive of fear’s snare. 

Cheryl, thank you for your courage. You gave me courage to face and uncover my own fears. I love you and I thank God for you. 

My body is sore and hurting today, but what was gripping and suffocating something in me is gone. Though in need of another bag of ice and something much stronger than Tylenol (which I can’t have), I am better off than I was yesterday in ways that only God could reveal and heal, and I am thankful. 

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