Back in October, about 3 1/2 weeks after we found out we were pregnant, we had a bad day. We were told, "There is no way you will have a baby from this pregnancy." We were devastated. They told us to wait a week and then go see our obstetrician, who would confirm a miscarriage and tell us where to go from there.
It was not a good week.
During that week, though, my family gave us a gift. It was one of those "meant to be" kind of things - my aunt happened to be driving by a yard sale, something happened to catch her eye, and she happened to be able to round up the funds to get it as a gift from my whole family.
The gift was a cradle. A beautiful, handmade wooden cradle.
At first, I wasn't sure I even wanted it in the house. I didn't want to see it, didn't want to picture my baby sleeping in it, when we were most likely in the process of losing our baby. I didn't want to have to come home from some sort of "procedure" to see that empty cradle staring at me, with no hope of being filled.
The cradle came to our house the same day it was purchased, and something else came with it - hope. I began to think that maybe, just maybe, the ER staff was wrong, and that God had other plans.
Here is the result of God's plans: