The first twenty weeks of my pregnancy progressed seamlessly, bringing very little morning sickness and enough energy to keep up with my six-year-old daughter and three-year-old son. My husband and I embraced this pregnancy and did all the fun Pinterest-inspired things we didn’t with our first two children. Joy filled our hearts when we found out we were having another girl!
During my twenty-week anatomy scan, I cheerfully chatted with the ultrasound tech. The tech informed me that I had a condition called complete placenta previa, in which the placenta fully covers the cervix. She warned me the doctor might call me that afternoon since my exam wasn’t scheduled for a couple days.
My doctor’s voice didn’t catch me off-guard when she called later that same day. She immediately confirmed the previa and I rattled off a number of questions inspired my by Internet searches. She abruptly cut me off, explaining she wasn’t concerned about the previa as they normally correct by twenty-eight weeks. She went on to share the ultrasound findings. Our sweet baby carried three physical “markers” that suggested possible health issues.
I only remember bits and pieces of this conversation. The words she said frightened me to my core: Trisomy 18, Down Syndrom, or incompatible with life. Within this short chat, she also told me everything might be okay.
She referred me to a high-risk doctor for further testing. All attempts to console me fell on deaf ears after hearing all that could be wrong. I called my husband, then my best friend. Sobbing, I relayed the conversation to her. The potential health problems weighed heavier on my heart each time I considered them.
My dear friend responded simply, but powerfully: Pray.
My husband and I strayed from the church after the birth of our oldest daughter. During a busy season of life, we reasoned our Sunday routine was the easiest to let go. We recently returned to church, the result of a years-long inward struggle of mine. I felt God calling me to a different type of church than we previously attended, and it didn’t make sense to me. I ignored this small fire in my soul until my oldest daughter became interested in attending services. Church fanned the flames within and I threw myself into learning about Jesus. I began consistently reading my Bible and attended a Bible study for the first time. Yet, prayer didn’t cross my mind when I received the terrifying news from my doctor.
I hung up the phone and slowly walked up to my bedroom. I collapsed to my knees as soon as I crossed the threshold. My head fell to my chest before I lifted my water-filled eyes to Heaven and cried out to God like I never have before. Jeremiah 29:11 came to my heart: “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”
At that moment, I fully surrendered my life to God.
In despair, I turned to Him. I promised the Lord I would cling to His Truth, knowing that ultimately His plans were good. I told Him I didn’t understand these circumstances, but I knew He was in control. I vowed to follow Him, lean on Him, and trust in Him no matter what.
Later in the day, I posted a vague request for Scripture. My online friends overwhelmed me with various verses, some of which I’d never heard. I wrote every single one down, filling two notebook pages front and back. As we slowly revealed the uncertainty we faced, God comforted us in the prayers of friends and strangers.
I wrote a letter to our daughter two days after the life-changing phone call.
Peace overwhelmed me during days of uncertainty. Tears continued to fall, but I knew God was in control. I trusted Him to see us through, no matter what. God relieved the worst of our fears through our high-risk ultrasound a few weeks later. The remainder of my pregnancy had ups and downs, but I remained confident in God.
On July 23, 2014, our daughter entered the world safe and healthy. She was perfect.
Caitlin Grace was born via c-section after nine weeks of bed rest. My complete placenta previa remained and the risks were too high to carry her beyond 37 weeks. God marked me with an uneven pink scar, which reminds me every day of His love and faithfulness. It is my permanent reminder of the power of prayer, of surrender, and trust.
In my darkest hour, He met me with love and grace. He peacefully carried me through uncertainty. I will forever sing God’s praises, for He is good.
To Him be all the glory.
Sometimes, we forget the times when God proved faithful to us. I’m a big fan of journaling, and I am so grateful to still have the pages I shared with you. How has God proved faithful to you? I’d love to hear your story! Leave a comment, or email me directly at firstname.lastname@example.org.