Letting God Do His Thing

I want to just open up tonight’s post that I’ll be talking about a sensitive topic. Discussing fertility and pregnancy can be a painful topic for many, and I acknowledge that this post may be difficult to read for some. So I would just like to give that heads up from the jump, and wrap those readers in a special hug and prayer, as they consider whether they want to move past this particular entry.

I entered my second trimester this week. I am now officially 13 weeks, and out of the first trimester.

Which, truthfully, is such a relief, a joy, and cause to celebrate.

Not because I’ve had horrendous morning sickness or because my face has been breaking out with hormonal acne — thankfully both of those things haven’t happened to me thus far.

But because we’ve made it out of the “danger-zone.”

When I first discovered that Steven and I were pregnant, we were only 3 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Basically the earliest date that an at-home pregnancy test would show a positive result.

And though we were elated, overjoyed and filled to the brim with gratitude, we knew that this first trimester was the most delicate for our fragile baby. And great caution would need to be taken to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

And we knew that once we got to the 12 week mark, we could breathe a bit of a sigh of relief.

Pregnancy is honestly, so wild, and actually quite isolating for the first trimester.

No one really tells you how short of a window you actually have each month to get pregnant (about 36-48 hours that the egg is viable), and then to top it off, you really don’t know when that window will occur.

And THEN, once you do take a positive pregnancy test, you don’t get to go in to see your doctor until you’re 8 weeks pregnant!

So for five weeks, you’re just sitting there like, Welp, we got 6 positive pregnancy tests. Let’s hope they weren’t wrong!

And then personally, to not really have many pregnancy symptoms other than just being exhausted by 7:30pm, it was really, rather unnerving going into the ultrasound at 12 weeks, and just hoping — well I hope there’s a baby in there!

And you’re going through all of this in secret, because you’re not “supposed to” tell people until you’re out of the first trimester.

But to be honest, even though the voices of reason around us were guiding us to not get overly excited and to keep a level head and even keel through the first trimester, the truth is, I have never doubted God.

It’s been like that through this entire journey: I just have felt this complete peace over the whole thing: conceiving, the “scary” first trimester, the weight gain and body changes. I’ve just felt in total and complete peace, knowing that this is exactly where God wants me.

I feel that I am right smack dab in the middle of God’s will for myself and Steven.

This whole journey I have surrendered to God and His plan for my life. He knows the deep desire in my heart and Steven’s heart. He knows my inmost being. And throughout my entire life, He has never abandoned me. He has seen me through even the darkest of days, and has kept me safe in the palm of His hand. Why would now be any different?

To be honest, since I adopted recovery, I feel my life has been one giant free fall. Not in a bad way. But in a way that, I had radical trust that I’ll be caught — perhaps to a bit of a reckless degree. But I’ve adopted this radical faith that He is leading me to where He has planned — every door that opens: take it; every set back: redirect to the next right thing; every moment of doubt: just believe.

And look where it has gotten me: the most amazing husband who shares my beliefs and has the biggest heart for family; I’m healthy and have been in Ulcerative Colitis remission for 15 years; I’m back in Cincinnati near my family; and I’m expecting our first child.

When we let God be God, that is where the “magic” happens.

He loves us so much and has only good things planned for us.

Sometimes the road to those good things may not look the way we would particularly like: I mean, ask me that when I was ousted in humiliation from my position as president of my sorority in college….that led me to New York and meeting my future husband. Ask me that when I had to move home from NYC in a debilitating Ulcerative Colitis flare that had me on bedrest for 11 months….that allowed me to truly learn how to take care of myself, and kicked me out of my binging habit once and for all. Ask me that when I nearly threw my life away with my eating disorder….that gave me the grace to know that I am nothing without God, and in fact, I cannot survive without Him: it gave me total and complete dependence on Him.

All of these things — these hard seasons where there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel — God was working behind the scenes in every situation, carrying me to safety, because I was utterly incapable of doing so myself.

Perhaps I’m rambling now. But this is just from my heart.

I’ve never doubted God’s deliverance. Not from ED. Not from ulcerative colitis. Not from singleness. And not from the fears of pregnancy.

He is always the rock we can depend on.

And in fact, we can thank Him ahead of time for the deliverance He will surely provide.

How incredibly blessed we all are.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends. And I’ll see you on Monday.

xoxo Caralyn

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