Why the wonder of a new life never gets old

So Oliver made his announcement yesterday that he is due to become a big brother sometime in October. To say we are thrilled is an understatement!

It doesn’t matter that we’re going through this yet again. The term “yet again” makes it sound mundane, boring, repetitive and another pregnancy is none of those things.

It’s always a miracle.

It’s always special.

It’s always a wonder.

It’s always amazing.

Always.

How can the miracle of a new life be something otherwise?

We never take it for granted. As you might now, we have experienced the sadness of miscarriage eight times already. I talk about it in our old blog.

It hurts.

We don’t assume a pink line on a test will bring us a baby a few months down the line. We don’t assume anything.

We just wait.

And pray.

A few weeks ago I got out of bed and promptly fainted at the doorway of our bedroom. Hmm, wonder what happened there?

Then, was it the same day or a day or so after I made a curry which I couldn’t stand the smell of. Now I make a great curry so it’s no reflection on my culinary skills which I might take the opportunity to state here are quite good. So I wondered.

And I took a test.

And I text Mike to tell him what I suspected.

And the test was positive.

And I text Mike to tell him it was positive.

And we were happy.

I was exactly four weeks.

A few days later we came home from church, where I’d prayed hard for this new, fragile life. I was bleeding.

We were devastated.

Thinking it was the onset of yet another loss we braced ourselves.

By the evening it had stopped.

The following few days were uneventful. My many dashes to the bathroom to carry out the obligatory checks were thankfully uncalled for.

Until the Friday. More bleeding. Again our hearts sank.

During the whole time I prayed. I prayed to God and I prayed to St Gerard, just like I did little over a year ago when Oliver’s health was being questioned. I prayed so hard and I struck a deal.

“St Gerard, if you help look after my baby – it will bear your name for it’s middle name if it’s a boy.”

I think he liked my offer.

Because last week, when I finally went in for an ultrasound to find out what, exactly, was going on we saw:

A tiny, little baby measuring just over 4mm, fitting the dates exactly and with a strong, fluttering heartbeat. No visible signs of bleeding from the uterus.

All good!

Amazing.


We’re only just over seven weeks along right now. It’s very early days yet and we’ve a long, long way to go.

But we’re happy that we’ve come this far and we’re praying we’ll have a stress free and successful pregnancy.

Because the gift of life is so very delicate.

So very wonderous.

And still so very, very precious.