UnCensored thoughts.

As I am sure you know, since it is no secret around here, A Story Unfolding is written to document my year after saying goodbye to Miss. Savannah. We are two days shy of the "five month" mark. My husband and I walked hand in hand through the cold night air recently. "It has almost been half a year," I observed.

{Really???}

Time has gone by so quickly and so many things have occured in our lives since, "Savannah." But no! No it can't be almost half a year since she was here. That is such a long time without her. How have we made it this far? How are we smiling, and laughing, and breathing? How are we okay, and living... half a year later?

{{Faith}}

As I have made it no secret, we have been trying to conceive. {With no such luck.} Being we began our efforts in October, that means we have only been trying for three short months. I was already beginning to get a little discouraged. I found out last weekend, that I am not alone in feeling this way. My husband was feeling the weight of this absence as well. He came right out and said it. No sugar coating. Right to the point. "I know. I want a baby too." In conversation, I asked, "what if Savannah was it? What if God gave her to us for eight days, but that is as far as He can take us?" My husband, always optimistic, said, "maybe it is. And maybe we will then adopt." 

My heart could adopt and my heart would adopt. I don't believe that a child has to be yours by blood to become yours.  If that was and is the plan that God bestows before us, than I would welcome that gift with open arms. But I cannot say, a part of me wouldn't miss that opportunity that was stripped from my hands with Savannah. 

To nurture, carry, and cradle a soul in my womb. A life in existence only because of the love two people share with one another. To labor through pain, for a far greater and bigger purpose. To touch and hold that little person for the first time, and look into the eyes of life that you already love unconditionally.  To spend the rest of your life cherishing and molding your future.

This month, I have tried to hold all hopes to a minimum. I have gotten on my hands and knees each night, and shared my deepest desires with the Lord. He hears me. I trust He does. Like I said, it has only been three months...

My husband, again the optimist of the family, believes that I am in fact pregnant. In fear of sure devastation once more, I am telling myself that I am not pregnant and any "symptoms" I may be experiencing right now are all in our heads. I will not get my hopes up in regards to, "having a smaller bladder" currently. And I will not be taking a pregnancy test this month. Five more days, and we will know either way.

I guess I'll let you know.

Say a little prayer. I know I will.