Today I am just rejoicing in the goodness of God for his many blessings, which definitely includes my four amazing sons. The honor of having them all at home and being able to teach them by-my-side for all these years is astonishing. Who would have ever thought it possible?
I empathize with women who have infertility problems, as I have experienced a total of four early miscarriages. I wouldn't have had my Jeremiah if I hadn't lost one of those little ones when I did. Since I have four boys (and of course we'd have loved a girl in there somewhere) I often think of the babies we lost as my "girls." Everyone has a story and I want to share mine from my journal of eight years ago:
“Where's ours?” My husband looked at me with those sad eyes. “When will it be our turn?” Friends of ours, with a newborn, had just left our living room. I don't remember what my answer was to these recurring questions, but I felt numb.
When I was growing up, I entertained thoughts of being a mommy. I was one of six children, and it seemed the natural thing to have a household full of children. I often doted on my twin brothers, seven years younger, and played school with my younger sister. The most exciting thing in the world to me, would be to have a child of my own.
Years passed and a wonderful man came into my life and we married. I graduated college, and for our first few years together, I enjoyed my new roles as wife and Registered Nurse, but I knew we were missing something.
About our sixth year into marriage I was overjoyed to find out I was pregnant. I started writing a journal to the little one I'd never see or hold, as she was lost to us in her 11th week. Not long afterward, this same scenario occurred again. My heart ached and I sobbed out with empty arms. I wondered if I might ever be able have a child. My prayers never ceased and resembled those that Hannah (from the Bible) must have prayed. I took comfort, that it was possible to conceive again. I relied on God's love and His plan for us.
In our eighth year, I was with child again. At exactly the fourth month, I felt the first fluttering movements stirring within me. I was sitting in a meeting at my job at the time, and I wanted to jump up and shout. I hid my secret (with a huge smile on my face) till the meeting was over. I knew my baby was alive – a most precious gift!
Josiah was born at home in the heat of Florida's July, 1986. Words cannot describe how we felt to be parents of our darling baby. I love to look at the photo of my husband's face holding his firstborn son, with tears streaming down his cheeks, and remembering the first prayer of thanksgiving that he offered up for him.
Fourteen years have passed, and when standing, my baby's eyes now smile down into mine. He has three younger brothers, all miracles to me. I've learned to trust God in all things in my life. I can see that His timing was perfect.
One of my favorite passages in the Bible is Psalm 139 and I read it often... “I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are they works; and that my soul knoweth right well.”
We are blessed, indeed.
(Photos from top to bottom: Josiah at ten, Gideon at seven, Benjamin at four, Jeremiah at one; twelve years ago now. Josiah is presently 22)