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This is my little tree baby. The little one now growing inside of me. I started this painting when I found out I was pregnant again, as a kind of visual reminder of where this baby’s life really truly comes from, and that I have no need to worry.

Of course that didn’t stop me from worrying, or rather from thinking that I was going to have a miscarriage every five minutes of the whole entire first 11.5 weeks of the pregnancy. Since my last pregnancy ended in miscarriage, I was absolutely convinced that this one would too- I know- it was very irrational thinking, but that was what I did, and it would twist up my stomach into a huge knot every day.

All that change a few days ago, very very thankfully, when I heard the baby’s heart beat for the first time. That steady little rhythm was like a mental life preserver, and I felt like I could finally hold onto something else (hope?) for dear life. I also felt a deeper connection to this little one and a new love. Mercifully, this heartbeat came around the same time as the nausea started waning and small amounts of energy are starting to return, so it truly feels like the dawn of the 2nd trimester.

The visual reminder that I was trying so desperately to believe, is that this baby in essence belongs of God, is nurtured by God, and is breathed life into and fed by God’s mercy and bounty. That I am just a surrogate, a carrier, and the material componant to this baby’s life. Because ultimately who is breathing life into me? Who is making my heart beat until it doesn’t anymore? We are all here for a reason and for a specific time, everything has a value and a purpose. I have to believe the same thing about this little baby growing in me. That God has a plan for this little child that is way beyond my ability to comprehend. I can trust that and find hope in that, and also detachment if something did happen to it that is beyond my control. To know that their life has value even if it were to be incredibly short and that maybe they were needed in the spiritual worlds beyond for a higher purpose.

I finished the painting yesterday, a week after I wrote the last blog post about the miscarriage. I think writing that helped me to say good bye to the last baby and to embrace this next baby. Olee my almost five year old son saw this picture and said, “Mom, who is that?” (referring to the baby) and I said, “Well, that is baby muffin” (the name Olee gave to the baby growing in me now), and he said, “But that doesn’t look like a girl!!!!!”, and I said, “Well your right, sorry about that.” Olee is absolutely certain that it is going to be girl because he really wants a baby sister. We shall see 🙂

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