Strength in Weakness

“For when I am weak, then am I strong. Grace is my shield, and Christ is my song.”

“You’ve made it past the point when most miscarriages occur, and also past the point of twin vanishment. The babies are growing really well. However, Monoamniotic-Monochorionic twins have about a 50% chance of survival. Many of these babies don’t make it past 22-23 weeks gestation because their umbilical cords become compressed or entangled. If they do make it to viability, or 24 weeks, you’ll need to be hospitalized until you deliver. We’ll need to closely monitor you and the babies in case we need to intervene and deliver them emergently. They could be born much sooner, but we don’t allow these types of pregnancies to progress any longer than 34 weeks. It becomes too dangerous for the babies to develop in the womb because of their limited space in sharing the same amniotic sac. Regardless of when they come, they’ll more than likely require a stay in our Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Just try and take it easy and rest, there’s really nothing more you can do to ensure the best outcome. We’ll see you again in a few weeks.”

My heart sank. I fought hard to hold back tears and not completely lose myself to uncontrollable sobbing. I was only 22 years old at the time, and a newlywed of just 6 months. In no way, shape, or form was I ready to hear the news that felt like a gavel slamming against my dreams of becoming a mother. I didn’t know whether to be angry at the doctor’s pessimistic delivery of information, or thank him for advising me of the horrific news he’d made sure I fully understood. I was in utter shock and disbelief. I was absolutely terrified. 

I somehow held myself together while leaving the doctor’s office. I quickly reached my vehicle, and called my husband at work. After tearfully sharing all the news with him and ending the phone call, I started my car and immediately began to think of where I could go. I couldn’t go home, no one would be there. I couldn’t go out in public, I was too close to breaking down at any given moment. I needed someone to help distract me from my racing thoughts. Every single thought was flooding my mind and heart with anxiety and panic. 

“Hospitalized? For how long? That hospital is an hour away. What about the nursery? What about all I need to get done before they come? My girls could die. I could come so far and lose them. They could be born and die of complications of prematurity. What would I do if I lost them? I’d go crazy. I couldn’t handle that! I can’t handle any of this!” 

 I felt like I had just been delivered the death sentence of my precious babies. My heart kept pounding faster and faster. At that moment, calming down wasn’t anywhere near my grasp, but I had to get out from behind the wheel of my car and breathe. I soon pulled into the driveway, unlocked the door and began shouting her name, “grandma! Grandma, are you here?” I did a quick search of the house and opened the garage to look for her car, only to find it empty. My grandma wasn’t home. I was completely alone. The absence of noise was pure torture. My mind was spinning with endless thoughts of all the unknowns I was about to face. One of the few things I was absolutely sure of in my life, was the fact that I wanted to be a mom. I so deeply loved the little girls growing inside of me. The innate motherly nature was already in full force. All I wanted to do was protect them from anything and everything. And yet, I was completely helpless. There was absolutely nothing I could do to protect them from all the overwhelming statistics stacked against them. The precious and innocent lives growing inside of me, were completely out of my hands. I wasn’t the giver of their lives, and oh how quickly I was realizing that I wouldn’t be the sustainer of them, either. The outcome was completely out of my control. 

I sat down at the kitchen table, and sobbed. I couldn’t carry it anymore. The weight of it all was crushing me inside. I suddenly found myself praying out loud. I needed to sort through my own thoughts and release them to the only One who could carry it all. “Father, I am so terrified of losing these babies. You know how much I already love them. You of all know how much I want these girls. Please protect them. Please grow them safely inside my womb. Let them make it safely to viability. Let them grow for as long as possible. Please take all of my worries and fears, and be in complete control. These babies were yours before they were ever mine. You created them. I am begging you to allow them to live, to be okay, to bring them safely into this world. Ultimately, they belong to you. Even if you choose to take them, I’ll thank you for giving me the privilege of carrying them, of being their mom, even if only for a short time. Your will be done for their lives.”

It was then and there that I let go. I let go of my desperate need to try and control the outcome. I let go of trying to figure it all out and hold on to the illusion that I was in any sort of control to begin with. I had to completely lay it all down at the feet of Jesus. He knew the deep longing I had to be a mother. He gave me that very desire. I had to stop carrying the weight of it all, and place it in His hands. He loved my girls more than I ever could. He created them and knew them already. I had to hold to the fact that God had heard the cries of my heart. He would be with me every single step of the way. My one and only hope for peace and strength would actually be found in my weakness, in coming to the end of myself. It would be found in my whole-hearted surrender to the One who was in full control and complete control.

This was one of the many major events in my life where I had to fully surrender everything to the hands of my Savior. He had already promised to never leave me nor forsake me (Deut. 31:6/ Heb. 13:5). He had already given life to the very babies I was pleading with Him to help preserve. He was going to be with me and not abandon me to my fears or to my feeble attempts to try and be in control. He just wanted my all, my everything. He wanted me to surrender to His beautiful promise of casting my cares upon Him and letting Him care for me (1 Peter 5:7). He wasn’t trying to break me to despair. He was trying to allow my weakness to point me to His strength. He was leading me to surrender, to the very footsteps of faith and freedom. It was going to be for my good, (Romans 8:28) and for His ultimate glory. His strength. His grace. His will, not mine.

“And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” II Corinthians‬ ‭12:9‬ ‭NKJV‬‬