Matt and I chose to share some words at John Haven's celebration of life service. We knew it wouldn't be easy, but it just felt right. We are so honored to be his parents and for the Lord to entrust us with his life and story.

We arrived to the hospital around 5:50 AM. After getting settled, Dr. T came in. It was around 6:30 AM. I was 3 cm dilated which was an answered prayer. I wanted my body to let me know it was ready. We didn't want to make the hard decisions. We wanted the Lord to make every decision very clear and easy.

36 weeks of loving you, John Haven. We’re so ready to meet you (but stay put a little bit longer!)

This morning may have been the last time I’ll see John Haven’s precious face until we meet him at delivery! It’s all getting very real. Believing that when we meet face to face that the Lord has completely healed him. We’re expecting miracles & grateful for every single one we have and will witness. It’s hard to imagine what that day is going to look and feel like. I can’t wait to meet you John Haven!

When I was 33 weeks pregnant with Mills, I was counting down the days until his due date. But John Haven’s pregnancy is different. If I’m being really honest, half of the time I just want time to freeze. I want to live all my days carrying John Haven safely with me. I want every uncomfortable sleep. Every coffee withdrawal. Every sciatic nerve pain. Every contraction. Because he is so alive inside of me. Part of me just wants time to stand still.

Our prayers are getting bolder. Our faith is getting stronger. We’re praying for the Lord’s will. We know healing is coming.

Next week is full of appointments. We will be meeting with the high risk OB on Monday, the neonatologist on Wednesday, and my normal OB on Friday. As we anticipate these appointments, here is what we are praying and believing:

“I proclaim healing over my children. By Jesus’ stripes they were healed. The healing, life-giving, disease-destroying power of God is working in their bodies. It drives out all manner of sickness and disease. They are full of life, health, strength, and vitality. They are healed, healthy, and whole from the tops of their heads to the soles of their feet. Every organ in their bodies operates and functions the way God created it, with no disease or malfunctions. Every system in their bodies operates and functions with supernatural efficiency. My children’s nervous systems, their digestive systems, their electrical systems, their circulatory systems, and every other system functions with 100 percent efficiency… My children are healed, healthy, and whole in Jesus’ name.”

John Haven has been golfing with daddy and shopping with mama. He's been to the lake and a baseball game. He's been to the zoo a dozen times. He's been to the park and watched his brother ride his trike all over the neighborhood. He's watched all of Mills' favorite shows and helped his mama cook daddy's favorite meals. He's eaten at so many of our favorite restaurants and loves sweets just as much as his mama.

Having our babies close in age has always been a dream of ours. When we found out about John Haven’s diagnosis, we had to grieve our dreams. We had to grieve the normalcy we expected in life. We’ve had to arrive at the the truth that’s been true all along: we’re not in control and that’s good.

As I walk into my appointments, I am filled with so much hope. Hope that I’ll see healing. Hope that all my prayers will have been answered. Hope that I’ll see the Healer at work.

Our 18 week anatomy scan was scheduled for Tuesday, May 22nd. I had eagerly anticipated this day for weeks. My last appointment had been at exactly 13 weeks, and I was beginning to feel impatient. I couldn't wait to see our baby. Of course, I wanted to know the baby's gender, too, but anxiety and fear were uninvited friends during my pregnancies and I was ready for some reassurance.

I’ve thought a lot about that first appointment. I was 9 weeks pregnant. The enemy had planted a few seeds of fear, but we were mostly so naïve and expectant of a normal pregnancy. We were discussing baby names, dreaming of Mills being a big brother, and hoping my morning sickness would end soon. We prayed diligently for our child, but our minds were still set on earthly things. We weren’t prepared to hear that our child might not live. But is anyone?

Jesus is so near to us in this season. But I know He's always this near. We're just deciding to sense His nearness. We're choosing to feel His presence. I read His word, words that I've known all my life. But they have become life to our bones. They are medicine to our hearts. Never have we felt the presence and peace of God like we do right now.

John means “god is gracious” and Haven means “safe place”. We declare these names over our child. Even now, God is still good. He is gracious. And we know His plan for John Haven is full of grace. We praise the Lord that he’s allowing me to carry our child in the safety of my womb. That we are able to spend these days with him. And we ultimately praise Him that all of his days, whether on Earth or in Heaven, will be spent in the hand of the Father. Our gracious Father, our place of safety.

I've carried you for 20 weeks, and I pray I carry you 20 more. We cherish these days with you. I am so honored to be your mama. 

In the past two days, I’ve realized how difficult it is for me to talk to friends, and even family, about this journey. I’ve mostly been silent. I know if I tried to speak, it wouldn’t be much of a conversation. It’d be tears. Billions of tears. Because the words that I write are written amongst a sea of tears and prayers. They’re written when I’m at the feet of the Father, pleading for my child. Believing for a miracle. The emotions are overwhelming. And I can’t wrap them up in a cookie cutter conversation. So friends, don’t be confused by my silence. Don’t be offended by my inability to participate in small talk. I want to be authentic. I don’t want to hide our pain. But know how difficult it is to complete a conversation about this journey without becoming a well of tears.

“There are many things wrong with your baby.”

Currently, the ability to take a nap would be the best luxury I can even imagine. If you bring me a BLT, I’ll be your best friend. And if you need someone to talk to in the middle of the night, I’m probably awake because pregnancy insomnia is the real deal over here. Mostly, I’m just feeling so humbled to have the privilege to carry this child. We’ll find out gender in 2 weeks, and I’m so eager to know if Mills is getting a little brother or a baby sister! We’re already all kinds of smitten with you, little one!