When God Moves
A personal story.
A quick calculation says it's a little over 9 minutes to read, so plan accordingly - I suggest you grab a cuppa and a blanket and settle in - and maybe tissues? I share some - okay, a lot - of my heart and I discuss some sensitive topics.
Some of you may know but probably most of you don't know that we have been trying to conceive for the last 6 years.
Our firstborn came relatively easy - especially as we were assuming it would take us months or years to get pregnant after being on birth control. But he came easily: a quick conception, easy pregnancy, an albeit trying delivery that resulted in a c-section - everything seemed like mom plus dad makes baby.
Then I became pregnant the following May (6 months after we had SHF) and that began my journey of “Why, God?”; “When God?” because going to what I expected to be the usual confirmation appointment left me questioning and wondering and despairing.
No baby. No heartbeat. Not even an egg sack.
I had symptoms, an HCG count, a missed period… but I was empty.
We were on the brink of moving across the country from Montana back to Georgia. MT doctor said check on things when I get to Georgia. Georgia doctor can't find anything. She gives me options... Defeatedly and hesitantly - I, personally, don't stand for termination, but my body was “supporting” something (what should have been a someone ) that wasn't there - I chose.
The miscarriage was completed later that fall - a story for another time - and we were instructed to wait 6 months before trying again.
One month passed. Two months. Four months. Six months passed irritatedly checking off the days before we “could” try again.
So we tried.
And tried.
And tried again.
Nothing.
For three years - nothing.
Then Thanksgiving 2023 rolled around. I was late - for more than a day or two. But I took a test and there was no indication of anything at all.
I spent the day in a defeated sigh.
Then I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
I heard a whisper: "Trust Me"
I pulled another test out. Did the deed. And waited.
Two faint lines.
I knew false positives can happen.. so I shed a few tears of silent joy and crawled back in bed - but not before prepping the last test so I could try again later in the morning.
Six hours later, I repeated the process.
Two faint lines.
Praise the Lord. It's happening. Accept the invitation to trust.
I made the confirmation appointment, surprised my husband, and we reveled in the coming blessing. But the next week began a rollercoaster of heartache, insecure hope, and more Googling than what trust should have had me doing.
Five days after I took the test, I started bleeding - not spotting. Bleeding. I notified the doctor's office: “Don't stress. Just relax - take a bath. We'll get everything checked out in the morning.”
Okay…
I go to the appointment hoping everything is okay.
Nothing.
Again, nothing.
“Let's draw blood and see what your levels are. We'll go from there. Maybe you aren't as far along as you think.”
I'm struggling to Trust but I go through the motions.
Draw blood. Wait. Get results. Nothing. Go back, draw blood. Wait. Get results. Rising HCG levels. No sign of baby. Draw more blood. Wait…
Repeat.
Repeat again.
Four weeks of thinking I was trusting for the “right” thing and going through the above motions, but having a hard time seeing where God was leading me.
Why was I “pregnant” and yet there wasn't a baby growing in my womb?
Why couldn't they find anything on the ultrasounds?
Why can't these medical professionals give me ANY inkling as to what was going on or why?
Google led me to believe a possibility - a probability and I pressed my doctor, “What if it's ectopic?”
Him: “I could give you a shot and we can check all the levels again later to see if it does anything. Or I can do laparoscopic tomorrow and we'll know.”
Me: “Schedule it. I need to know.”
Two days before Christmas, I went in hoping and praying and believing for the best outcome: no ruptured tubes so they both can stay and to get a definitive answer.
God was there with me through those weeks and had His hands on my inner workings and I had confirmation of that post-op.
Him: “I found it. It was on your left tube - no signs of rupturing or damage. I left the tubes. Time for the shot and next steps”
Leave post-op; receive the shot to stop further growth of cells… Ugh.
Relief and heartache. There was a baby there - just in the wrong place.
The follow-up appointment was another blood draw. Wait. Results: HCG count decreased… Repeat. They decreased again. Okay…
Walk forward.
Lean hard into the Lord.
‘Lord, You said trust. Help me to trust.'
Begin the road to recovery.
From surgery.
From a form of cancer treatment.
From heartache.
From disappointment.
From anger.
From confusion.
From despair.
From comparison.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit."
Psalm 34:18
Trying again was hard. We aimed to just have fun - take the pressure off. But every cycle that ended started again.
Friends and family became pregnant around me.
I photograph maternity sessions, newborn sessions, baby announcements, gender reveals… Joyfully and happily for them, but still aching in my heart. And, admittedly, I was jealous.
I stayed on the merry-go-round that was my cycle.
Then spring 2025 had me contemplating all the things that could be wrong with my body - environmental toxins, wacky levels in my body, lack of eggs, “old age”, PCOS - I was mentally grasping at straws.
Not trusting - trying to make sense of everything myself.
I schedule an appointment to have my blood checked for anything that would stand out as a cause or problem and establish a baseline to work from moving forward.
Everything is normal.. healthy. No concerns. Get referred to an OB/GYN.
Go through another round of tests. They don't see any red flags, but recommend a uterine flush. We do that (which I, personally, don't recommend. Super painful and yielded nothing for me - but I suppose you should discuss that with your OB/GYN if you're struggling).
Her: “Well, next is a fertility expert. We'll send a referral through your portal."
Buttoned-up. Done. Bill insurance. See ya…
I sit with this for a bit. A few weeks. A few months.
Something in me said there wasn't a fertility issue. Plus, I know others who have gone that route and that it was hard and not a quick success - but, mostly, I didn't feel that God was leading me down that path.
I can't remember when it was, but I was talking with a friend or it was a sermon I heard that then got discussed - but I remember realizing I needed to shift my thinking, my stewing, my grasping at straws, my jealousy and self-pity…
I needed a posture change in my heart and in my thoughts.
I began praying over my friends who were also trying for babies and who were expecting. My prayer was for them and over them.
SHF began talking more and more about wanting a baby sister. I couldn't give it to him - despite my our best efforts. But I knew Who could.
“Baby, if you want to have a baby sister or baby brother we need to ask God. We'll make it part of our prayers. He will listen, and we'll wait."
I remember how Hannah prayed for Samuel..
“Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son…”
Adopting her language, I prayed: “Lord, remember me.”
We made this our prayer and we waited.
Months passed. I still counted down the days for the optimal window and then counted the days down until I could hopefully test.
I was on a carousel now.. Going around the cycle but with optimism and a humbled trust. Not me, but You, Lord.
The month of May came, the window came and passed, and my husband left for his yearly work out of state. Yes, fun was had but no more than had been had in previous months.
June rolled around and I met a friend for lunch. I joked that if I wasn't pregnant from May's rendezvous then when I saw my husband in the following two weeks, that that would be the only window we'd have until the fall and we'd probably be disappearing behind bushes and going to bed early. Sorry if that's TMI…but being genuinely lighthearted about something that weighed heavy on my heart was becoming easier and a more comfortable state of mind.
God was in control. Not me. And that was where I was resting. Where I was choosing to rest.
Days passed, and I didn't really think about the cycle coming to an “end” - I was packing and prepping and planning for the upcoming trip. But I was due to start over the first part of my trip so I got the necessary tools and set them aside for the suitcase.
A week before I was planning to drive out, my body felt different. I was worried I was overthinking the symptoms - as I had done in the past that ended in tears and heartbreak. But a day passed and another day passed and the symptoms became harder to ignore.
After church, I bought a pack of tests… Midday.
I go home and promptly use one.
When I say I used it, set it down, and looked back and saw TWO bold pink lines I mean it was that fast - and that striking.
I burst into tears.
Unbelief.
Awe.
Gratitude.
Joy.
I crumpled down on my knees with face to the floor with arms stretched out in worship between the tub and the toilet.
Humbled.
Complete glory and praise to my God who is the God of miracles and is faithful to His promises.
SHF heard my commotion and came to check on me - “What are you doing in there? Are you okay?" Quizzical and a little puzzled at my teary eyes and giggles. His face says, “those things shouldn't happen at the same time.”
I reassure him I'm okay and ask, “If I said, ‘God is good?’”
“All the time,” he answers.
I quiz, “and all the time..?”
He hastily answers, “…God is good," and shuts the door. Mom's good - weird, but good. Back to my movie.
I grab a picture and a quick video.. real content creator style - which I am not - but I wanted to remember that moment visually.
I begin scheming on how I would tell my husband, SHF, and the rest of our family. Pull something together in the 3 days before we drive across the country to Montana.
We were having a family reunion of sorts at my grandparent's where my whole family - save two - would be there. His family would be coming out for our 8 year vow renewal.
My heart swelled and the tears fell… How good was God? Putting all the pieces together so beautifully - and thoughtfully. Baby would be due around my birthday - a selfish hope and plan I had previously tried to make happen but to no avail.
I put together the bits and pieces of the reactions I captured from family and sweet friends who have been my prayer and support team since and after the first loss. You can view it below.
And beyond that.. I am here to say that no matter what season you're in, where you've walked, what you've felt, if you've doubted, tried all options you could think of, or are questioning the worth of it all… having your trust and faith in our good and faithful Father will take you down the path He leads and to the radiant truth and hope in this verse,
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen”
Ephesians 3:20-21
You may not believe as I do - and I can't make you - but I know what God did for me while I was yet a sinner, wayward and not following after what His Word said, and what He has done for me as a repentant, prodigal daughter with a healthy, growing baby in a once empty womb.
It wasn't my way, but His. Not my will, but His.
And it is good.
It is immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.
'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
and to take him at his word;
just to rest upon his promise,
and to know, “Thus saith the Lord.”
