Last night Ben said grace before dinner. And he veered from his usual “Thank you God for food, friends and family.” He simply said, “Dear God. Thank you for Mommy. Daddy. and Lyle. And I pray that the baby doesn’t have to go to heaven before it’s born. Amen.”

Obviously there were tears that followed. We haven’t talked about that possibility with him recently. But those were the words we used to tell him of the loss of our little one last spring.

I have started writing several posts in the last few months about how hard this pregnancy has been for me, but not been able to complete one. I often start writing at one point in the day, and finish at another. And the speed with which my emotions have been fluctuating has made it impossible to tie two thoughts together in any sort of cohesive manner. I have not been able to describe the anxiety, fear, hope, dread, surrender, grief, joy, faith, and more anxiety that have consumed me with out sounding totally despairing and dreadful. And I am continually surrendering this life, and mine to the Lord, and not despairing. But rejoicing that I am pregnant again. Even with all those emotional swirling. So I have left the words unspoken. At least here.

So far every check and test of the baby has been perfect. I am almost 22 weeks. With a big ole belly. And feel him moving all the time. And for that I am so thankful. And continuing to pray. And surrender this little life to the Lord. And thankful for Ben’s sweet words last night.