Celebrate we will because life is short but sweet for certain.

This is a blog that I wrote three months ago and never published. It is the back story for the blog that precedes it. The heartbreak before the hope, if you will.

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"Are you pregnant yet?"

"So.....just one kid for you guys, eh?"

"It's time to start trying for a sibling for MacPherson, you're not getting any younger you know."

These words.

I've said them in varying degrees.

I hate that I've said them.

I cringe when I hear them being said to others.

And now, I break inside when they are said to me.

Four months ago, at roughly two months of pregnancy, I miscarried. My precious little baby, who I was already talking to and praying over, who I was already naming secretly in my mind, who I was already desiring more than life itself to hold in my arms, passed silently over the course of two days. It's a loss that I cannot describe. It's a loss that still washes over me at the most random times. I can be perfectly fine one moment, the next, a sobbing ball on the floor. I carried my brokenness around with me in silence until just recently. In my opening up, I have learned something. I am not alone. Not even close. Of my roughly ten friends that know of this, seven of them have miscarried as well. Those numbers, those babies, those brokenhearted women just like me walking around in their silent pain, dying a little inside every-time that someone brings up the questions above, it's heartbreaking. It's time to stop with the questions. It's time to just be gentle with each other.

And trust me, world, when and if God chooses to give me another shot, I will tell you that I am pregnant. There will be no need to ask me "has it worked yet?"

Lastly, this, which has brought me comfort on the tough days. Goodbyes are not forever, when the Lord is the author of your story:

John 14:1-3

14 “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. ² In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? ³ And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.

I'll see you there, Baby DeVore. Until my time comes, mommy loves you. 

And now...the hope.

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Today, four months later, I write with a new tone; with a new joy. 

I am 13 weeks pregnant. 

God has restored my story, almost immediately, with a sweet, tiny, healthy thus-far little baby.

I am due the first week of November. St Joe's North, begin epidural readying procedures now, please.

MacPherson is excited, though slightly confused. He walks around petting his stomach telling strangers that he has a baby inside of it. In his story, he is having a little girl named "Monster Truck."It is in fact a girl, we found out today, but this name will probably not make it far on the list.

I'm not at all sick, though sometimes I feel exhausted. I am already showing, but I'm proud of that. It's a sign that I have been given a second chance, so I'll wear this extra weight proudly. And this cake, this cake I will eat proudly too. And this box or two of macaroni. And....etc. 

I am thankful. 

I am hungry.

I'll see you soon, my little girl.

And thank you, Jesus.