I got pregnant in December and I felt God saying, share this news.
So we did.
Within a week we had shared it with our kids and then most of our family and close friends. We had a very public journey of loss and this journey of new life was going to be public too.
Then I had a miscarriage.
And I did not regret the decision to tell people we were pregnant early on. The loss of our baby was painful and I experienced it at home. I am glad my kids had a vague idea of what was going on and I did not have to keep our loss a secret from them.
I am glad our family and friends knew our exciting news early so they could pray for us throughout the early loss.
I did not, and still do not, regret going through our miscarriage publicly.
Then we got pregnant again. Rather quickly. It was exciting. It was a miracle (all life is). But the message pressed into both our hearts was much different.
This time we felt a strong sense of ‘Keep this news for yourselves’.
It was confusing, but it was clear.
It was confusing because the past three years Brian and I have been willing to be vulnerable. We have shared our emotions and experiences openly. We have both advocated for sharing this life with other people, not trying to do life alone.
But the message was clear. This time, this news, it was just for us.
The story of Mary and her miraculous pregnancy kept coming to mind. Specifically Luke 2:19 which says, ‘Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often’.
So I kept the news in my heart. Brian and I talked about it together, but we did not share the news with anyone.
It was weird. This was our fifth time to get pregnant and our first time to keep it a complete secret for so long.
I began to analyze all the whys. Why did I feel like I should keep this secret? Was it fear? Was it guilt? What was I supposed to be learning? What was the lesson in all this? Because there is always a lesson, right?! There is always something to be learned.
For ten weeks I didn’t have any answers. Just a joyous little secret growing inside me. It was fun to share this intimate news with only my husband. But I didn’t think that was the point. But maybe there wasn’t a point. Maybe it was a simple act of obedience. I felt like God told me to wait to share the news, so I would wait.
Then as we got through week 8, the point of my previous miscarriage, and I continued to have nausea and symptoms of pregnancy I began to realize that God was listening to my prayers for a healthy pregnancy. And then it was week 11 and I was starting to feel better and feel more signs of the life inside me.
God was listening to my prayers and Brian’s prayers. That was it. Other people may have been praying for us throughout that time, but we were the only two that were praying knowing specifically for this little life.
And then it became so clear what I was learning through this experience. The message came flooding into my heart.
The whisper of one small broken heart is just as important as the cry of an army of warriors.
God hears me.
He doesn’t hear me because other people are asking him to. He doesn’t hear me because I am a good person and deserve it. He doesn’t hear me because of anything about me.
He hears me because He loves me. And He hears you because He loves you.
God hears you. You are enough. All by yourself. Your voice is loud.