When God Told Me I’d Have a Baby
Of all the stories I’ve held close to my heart in the time it took to get Truett, this one is my favorite. The climax of the story happened about a year ago now, and as I stare at my sleeping baby, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude for her life and for the ways God grew me in the season of waiting, trying, and losing other babies before she came along. I also want to be delicate as I tell this story because I know many women find themselves in a similar place, and obviously, I can’t guarantee that the outcome will be the same. We do nothing to deserve or earn our children, and I don’t pretend to know why God sometimes says yes and other times says no. But, her life is one of the clearest reminders to me that God listens, He speaks, and He makes good on His promises.
This blog is a pieced together testimony of moments I haven’t wanted to forget in the last 3 plus years and many seasons I did want to forget. I actually wrote a great deal of this post in April of 2022, during a pregnancy that ended up in miscarriage. What felt like the end of the story was actually still the middle, a lesson that applies to so many situations in life. But between 2021 and 2023, the biggest question on my heart was often, “Am I praying for something that God doesn’t have for me?” I so deeply desired another child, and I felt like it was a good desire that God had placed on my heart. And yet, with every passing month of negative pregnancy tests and multiple miscarriages, I started to feel more and more crazy. It seemed like I was wasting my life and sanity on a dream that God didn’t intend on seeing through, despite the many signs and whispers that I felt like were just for me. This is the story of the day that changed, when I knew that we would have another baby, and that I hadn’t been praying for an empty promise all along.
But first, let’s back up. I started prepping my body to have another child after Sullivan in December of 2020, when he was about 11 months old. Because I had a chemical pregnancy (very early miscarriage) the month before conceiving Sullivan, I was determined to do everything in my power to prep my body to conceive again. I read all the books, listened to all the podcasts, and scoured any information I could find on preconception health. I know more about this topic than anyone should, and in hindsight, I honestly wish I knew less. In many ways, I removed God from the journey of growing our family in the beginning of this process because I was so determined to do it my way, on my timeline. And while I do think it’s crucial to treat your body well in the preconception phase, I think I forgot that life is a miracle, and none of this story is about what I “did” to get pregnant.
We started loosely trying to conceive in February and March of 2021, but nothing happened. While I was disappointed, I didn’t overthink it. I was still breastfeeding a lot, my period had only been back for a few months, and we took a two month break to make sure that I wasn’t pregnant for a friend’s wedding later that year. I resolved that we would start our “official trying” in June of 2021. But, June came and went without success, which was a little surprising to me. After all, I had conceived in March and April of 2019 (miscarriage and Sullivan) with absolutely no effort. My lack of immediate fertility, especially when my cycles and my body were night and day healthier than they had been two years prior, was not something I had expected.
On July 26, 2021, the night before I started my period at the end of another cycle of trying, I felt like God gave me a name for a little boy - this was probably the main reason I was convinced Truett’s pregnancy was a boy, but I definitely didn’t guess that one correctly! However, the name meaning tied directly to a verse that I loved, and it just sat with me in a significant way. The verse was Psalm 127:3-5, which says,
“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their opponents in court.”
Ironically, July 27, the next day, is when I saved a prayer on my phone giving my fertility journey over to God. When I started my period that morning, I was very upset, but I remember telling a few friends about this name that I loved and its meaning to me. One friend said, “Wow, how kind of God to give you that name as an encouragement in this season.” To be honest, it didn’t feel encouraging, it felt a little like a sting. After all, what’s a name without a pregnancy and a baby to go with it?
By August 2021, I was starting to get mad. My anger was spilling out in a lot of directions, mostly at home, and I had started going to therapy again to help me process through things. I felt like all I did was talk about wanting to get pregnant, tracking my cycle, and sex feeling like a job. Towards the end of the month, and yet again, right before another period would start, I told my friend Haley how frustrated I was on the way to a social gathering. She told me that she was excited to see how God was writing my story and what He was doing in my life right now. In the same moment, I took a photo of 2 rainbows in the sky; ironic, since I ended up having 2 miscarriages before Truett, my double rainbow baby. I didn’t remember the rainbow thing until very recently, but I did remember Haley’s words.
In September, I really felt like I would be pregnant, and I was. I was thrilled, confident, and happy. I had such peace, I rejoiced, and I told all of my community. But, just about a week or so after finding out that I was pregnant, I miscarried. I had begged God to be pregnant. I had finally felt like the weight of trying and longing was lifted, and instead, I found myself thrust into the deepest pain I could imagine. That baby was so loved and had been so wanted. For the first time in a long time, I had gotten my hopes up, and everything was shattered. It wrecked my hope in trying, my confidence in my own body and health, and devastated my faith in so many ways. I felt like I had tried to trust God and He had let me down in the biggest way possible; it was difficult to see much of anything beyond the pain of that loss.
A few days after my loss, I went to see my counselor, Catherine. It was early October 2021 by this time. In a very painful session that mostly consisted of me crying and unable to speak, Catherine gave me a lot of prophetic words and encouragement. I distinctly remember her saying that what God is doing in this season won’t make sense right now, but it will later, and that I’d be surprised by the details when I least expected it.
The rest of October and November consisted of me trying to process through my anger and pain. I was having some health issues after miscarrying that I wanted to get sorted out, and I had blood work done to try to rule out any other hidden causes. Honestly, I was still looking for a way to control the situation, and I was very angry at God. We took a break from trying to conceive in October and November, and I couldn’t wait for the break to be over so that I could try to fix the problem. Everything just felt like another no, another setback. Psalm 40:1-3 stuck with me in those months, which says,
“I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in Him.”
In December of 2021, I was struck with the realization that it had been a year since I started preparing for another pregnancy, and it had been a year of struggle and pain. My heart was so heavy, but I had a renewed sense to start trying again and to invite God into the process in a way I hadn’t in the past. I have more notes and prayers on my phone asking God to be in the journey and the timing. One of them ends in the line, “I choose to believe you will restore this chapter of our story.”
That month, 3 things happened that felt extraordinarily timely and encouraging. The first was the day I opened my devotional to find Psalm 127:1-2 staring back at me.
“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat - for He grants sleep to those He loves.”
I was immediately struck by the fact that I needed to ask God to build this house and to let go of control. I pondered on it for a few moments and then realized that Psalm 127:3-5 immediately followed, which are the verses I listed above about children being a blessing and reward from the Lord. Psalm 127 is also called a Psalm of Ascent, and I have loved the Highlands (Song of Ascent) worship song in this season.
The second thing that happened in December was when a friend texted me and told me that her daughter, who is Sullivan’s age, randomly said that Sully’s mommy was going to have a baby. I had been praying about God confirming my dreams for another child, and she literally texted me within the same time I was praying and thinking about needing some encouragement.
Lastly, I have picked a “word” for my year since 2017. It’s just a word that wraps up what I think God is teaching or telling me in this season, and in December, I immediately heard the word “blessing”. To be honest, I was very hesitant to receive it or even dwell on it because I wasn’t in a place to get my hopes up because blessing meant a child to me, and I just didn’t know if I could stomach that promise in a season that still felt so dark. Recently, I heard someone say that blessing just means more of God, which is actually exactly what I received and not what I was seeking.
I started feeling very hopeful towards the end of December 2021, though, and I felt like it could be my month to redeem the whole thing and the whole year, and then I got sick right before New Year’s. Really, really sick. I had a week of a stomach virus followed by two weeks of COVID. I don’t know that my body has ever felt so depleted, and it was about a solid month before I felt somewhat normal. Most of my January 2022 was spent trying to recover, but Ross kept saying he felt like we’d be pregnant by March. Honestly, his confidence made me a bit angry because I didn’t understand how he could say something so nonchalantly and with such confidence. Ironic that I took a pregnancy test on March 31, and he was right. We did get pregnant by March, just like he said.
There were a lot of little details that happened in March of 2022 before I found out that I was pregnant, but mostly, that month marked a change in the posture of my heart; I resolved to be present in the season of pain and waiting, even if it didn’t result in the outcome I was hoping for. I resolved to allow God to use me and use what He was doing in my life. I had several people tell me that they felt like I’d be pregnant in March of 2022 and use the word blessing repeatedly, and I ended up ovulating on my 30th birthday and finding out that I was pregnant on March 31, 3 years to the day from my very first positive pregnancy test.
Now, if you’ve been following up to this point, you can see how that pregnancy test would have felt like a moment. It truly felt like the culmination of all these little details, and though I was fearful, it seemed like the answer to all of the prayers. Even that day, I opened my Bible to 1 Peter 5:10, which reads
“And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.”
I had saved that verse on my phone months prior, and I truly felt like my time of suffering was over and we were on to the good stuff. After all, I was tired of the painful story (who wouldn’t be), ready for my miracle, and ready to tie a bow on it and move on. Thank you for the signs and wonders, God, I’ve cracked the code. I opened my heart and shared my testimony, thank you for my blessing. You can imagine the level of pain, devastation, and confusion I felt when I found out that pregnancy wasn’t viable at my 8 week ultrasound. Everything I felt like I had heard from God or remained faithful in seemed like a joke, and I realized that the story was going to be much harder than I could’ve imaged. The pain was going to run a lot deeper, and we were far from finished. I honestly lived the next month in a fog as I waited for the miscarriage to pass.
By that point, I’d sunk into a black hole that I only climbed out of each day for Sullivan. My marriage was in the toilet because of the emotional roller coaster I’d put it on for the last year, I don’t remember talking to God, I quit therapy on the spot, and I just aimed for survival. Those who haven’t walked it can’t truly understand, but I really had to change everything about the way I viewed my life. I had to get comfortable with the reality that God might never answer my prayer. Sullivan might be my only child, and I wasn’t owed redemption in growing my family. I had to decide who I was going to be and how I was going to live if nothing changed, and that was huge in my ability to move forward. It was messy and horrible and felt bad every day, and it wasn’t until August or September that I finally asked God for His help to shift the season we were in, especially in our marriage, which had taken the brunt of my grief.
After the miscarriage in 2022, we stopped trying, and I couldn’t imagine trying again, a feeling I’d never had prior. About 6 months after that pregnancy, in September of 2022, I had been praying for hope in general, and Ross told me he thought we should start trying again. Now, if you heard the conversations in our household in that season, you would’ve been as shocked as I was. Ross was over it after seeing the way grief had done a number on me the past couple of years, so the fact that it came from him felt like something I should listen to. My biggest goal in another season of trying was to really surrender control, starting with when we started trying again.
So, we started trying again in October, but we didn’t get pregnant with Truett for 6 months after that. For the first 4 of the 6 months, I would get sick basically every time I ovulated. Now, I rarely get sick to begin with, and like clockwork, it would hit at the worst part of my cycle every time. And honestly, I knew in my spirit every time we weren’t going to get pregnant that month, but I felt like we were supposed to keep going. During that time, I cannot tell you how many times I asked God if I should even be trying at all, and every single time, something encouraging would happen. A friend would send me a video or a word, I’d hear a podcast talking about hope and arrows (Psalm 127 again), and I read books like The Circle Maker and kept feeling like God was prompting me to pray for this future baby that I really didn’t believe existed most days.
In February, I felt specifically prompted to pray for the next 40 days that God would show up for us in a new way. Obviously, I was still hoping that would mean a baby, but I got off social media, quieted the distractions, and took it seriously regardless. During that time, I remember reading in 1 Samuel “the Lord himself will build you a house,” and I kept feeling those old themes coming back around. During that month, I finally started letting a lot of people in to start praying for me, and I started asking people to pray for a pregnancy and for a baby. Now, maybe you’re thinking, weren’t you already doing that?? But honestly, no, I wasn’t. I’m so uncomfortable asking for help and being vulnerable in that way, and one of the biggest lessons in this season was learning how to humble myself enough to ask for prayer over and over and over again.
In March of 2023, big things happened again. I swear, March is just an important month for me in this journey and in life period. One important thing was that I distinctly heard God say, “Do you want who I have for you?” which, at the time, just felt like a weird open-ended question. When I found out this baby was a girl, that was one of the first statements I thought about because I firmly believed I was having a boy or would have one, and instead it was her all along.
The second thing brings us to my favorite part of this novel of a post. On March 12, we had a big commitment Sunday at our church. Ross was singing, so I was sitting without him, and at the start of the service, our pastor said there would be a time in the service where people could come to the front and have a staff member or volunteer pray for them. More specifically, pray a blessing over them (my blessing word, coming back again). I don’t love moments of vulnerability like this, but I felt a nudge in my spirit that I needed to do it.
Much later in the service, Ross was on stage singing The Blessing (fitting, because I also love this song), and it was time to walk up and ask for prayer. As I stood in the line, I could see a handful of faces from our church who were praying over people, and I didn’t know most of them well. I prayed that God would send me to the right person, and I ended up with our associate pastor, who truly doesn’t know me at all. I introduced myself and said that I wanted to pray for a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby after years of struggle and loss. As he began to pray a really beautiful prayer over me with The Blessing rolling in the background, he said something that truly still gives me chills because it was so personal to my story. As he was praying he said, “God, I pray that Griffin’s quiver is full,” and at that point, I honestly just wept because again, Psalm 127, all the symbolism that he honestly never could have known without the Holy Spirit.
While it would be another couple of weeks before we got pregnant, that was a moment that I will truly never forget because in all of my prayers for another baby, it was a moment where I really felt like God was saying this is real, and you can trust Me to write this story. I am not owed a baby from God, but it felt like a blessing, exactly as it should’ve. It was the moment I knew that I hadn’t been praying for a dream but for a real person that God had for our family, and as scary as it was to believe that, I had to learn how to trust God for the impossible.
I’ve got 2 more verses, and we’ll wrap this up. If you can believe it, I’m actually skipping many details, despite how long this is. On March 31, 2023, my mom randomly texted me Psalm 139, which talks about how God knit each of us together in our mother’s womb. She sent it to me on the day I had found out I was pregnant twice, and she didn’t know that when she sent it to me, which just felt really timely because it was on my mind all day. Over the next couple of weeks, multiple people started telling me they thought I’d be pregnant soon or knew I was pregnant when I told them in April, and that hadn’t happened in a year. I had prayed for a long time that whenever I was pregnant next, other people would confirm it, and I think I lost track after 9 people either having dreams or telling me they knew before I told them.
And finally, my friend Becky gave me the verses Isaiah 43:18-19 early in this pregnancy, which say,
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
I loved these verses and memorized them in the early weeks of my pregnancy when I was just plagued with fear. They became a little more special when one of my friends correlated the fact that the girl name I’ve clung to for years, Truett, happens to mean “river bend”, which feels really fitting with this passage.
My biggest hope in sharing this story is that it encourages someone in the waiting, even if it’s not waiting for a baby. The way God speaks to us is so personal and intentional, and it’s never wasted, even if we don’t interpret it all correctly. I believe in writing it down because it matters, and you never know who needs to hear your story. Truett’s life is so purposeful to me, as have been the lives of all my other babies. I fully plan to tell her all of this, and she was so worth every bit of pain, frustration, and heartache. The fact that I have so many memories and moments of God speaking to me over the years and knowing her now, I’ll forever be grateful.