I have been worried that things with this baby weren't going to as special or seem miraculous like they did my first time with Emma. So here's the story: I didn't sleep well last night, I woke up at three thirty this morning thinking about things that I should turn over to God. I somehow think that lying awake and antagonizing over what's wrong with world, and the church will make things better. My hope and prayer is that one day I will be able to truly cast my cares upon my father so these sleepless nights are a thing of the past. So anyway, I have gotten so behind on house work from being so sick that I decided that I would go ahead and get up and start hammering away at it. So anyway, I got up and got to work. It somehow amazes me how I can work all day and my house be in a worse mess than it was before I started but even though it can't be noticed yet, I got quite a bit accomplished. Hopefully, I can tie things up after I get Emma to bed. So anyway, I got Emma down for a nap around 2 and collapsed on my bed. And there it was. You know those feelings that you never forget but you can't quite remember and try as you might, you could never picture it in your mind until you experienced it? Just as miraculously as the first time, I felt the baby move. And I just laid there and cried, and thanked God for letting it feel like a miracle once again. And also for letting me know that even after the stressful week we had last week and weeks and weeks of not getting proper nourishment to stay down, He had it handled. And just for a moment, all of this world was perfect.
Love from above,
PS, for some reason I can't figure out, when I edited this post, it deleted my comments. sorry Anna.