Just a short blog entry this week. I missed last weekends blog post day as I just didn’t really have any words to say.

I was gearing up for writing my 32 week post, with plans of writing how to pack a hospital bag & how we plan to get the house ready for a baby. I had most of the weekend to myself as my husband was away; that’s when it happened. I couldn’t feel our baby move anymore. All plans went out the window & I focused all of my attention on feeling movement. I felt a few slight flutters on Friday night, but these felt very out of the ordinary. On Saturday morning I couldn’t feel anything. I followed the protocol; had a cold glass of water, waited for its effects, still nothing. Lay on my left side, being hopeful that I would feel a slight flutter, anything; I still felt nothing. I grabbed my notes, called my husband, went to my parents & my dad took me to the hospital.

After some tests, scans & chats with very helpful, doctors & midwives, baby was given the all clear & I was sent home with the advice to return if I was concerned again.

Why is she writing this you might ask; well on Sunday morning I sat in our church service, appropriately about prayer.

I know it might be unpopular to write about my beliefs in my blog, but this is a personal blog, about my real life, and that’s how I want to keep it. Honest. Real. Me.

I sat there in that church service, bemused. Prayer is an integral part of Christianity, yet I tend to pray with the most conviction when I want something. I thought about our baby. We prayed for a baby, we were blessed to fall pregnant & that was really the end of that story; until last weekend. My next prayers were along the lines of, “please let our baby be ok, please don’t let this happen to us.” Isn’t it odd, believer or not, that in times of need we cry out to a power higher than ourselves, but the rest of the time we are fine to go it alone?

Personally I was challenged. Last weekend was the closest I’ve come to experiencing loss or even the thought of it. I was going it alone until I realised that this situation was much bigger than I was. I believe in God. I believe he created the world, and us, each uniquely; but I struggled to understand why something like this could happen, but at the same time knew He was the only one to help.

As I sat in that hospital room, attached to beeping monitors, my Dad quietly said, “it’s Ok, God is in control.”

I hadn’t intended to write this blog at all. I was just going to let it all slip by. A distant memory. One I’d rather forget about. I’ve typed, deleted, typed & deleted; but I keep coming back to this. In that moment I needed to hear those words, “God is in control,” and I feel there are many others who need to hear it too. Deep down inside I knew I needed to share this, it’s greater than the thoughts of “what will people think.” No matter the difference in situations, the message is the same. No matter how you feel, don’t go it alone. You aren’t on your own, and there is a greater plan. Even if you don’t believe, reach out to someone. You never know how many people are praying into your situation, while listening quietly to help & comfort you along the way.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget; so this post is here to remind me, and anyone else who needs to hear it:

God is in control.

Trust him. Don’t just go to him with wish-list requests. Let Him into every aspect of your life, not just the hard bits.

Be thankful.

It’s a challenge. One I need to work on.