Trusting God with my heart's desire

Fear and worry are sort of my favorite enemies to pick on; I savor every victory. This particular battle was a bit longer than usual, though. When my daughter was in the womb I worried more than I had worried for my sons. I had those normal but disturbing nightmares about giving birth to a pile of rocks, to a wooden doll, to a tiny creature that fit in the palm of my hand and then shrunk and disappeared.

Maybe I was just more anxious because I wanted her so much. I loved my two boys but I wanted a girl so badly, and my husband and I agreed this was going to be our last child. When I found out I was pregnant, long before the ultrasound, I bought a sweet little girl's pajama, whispering a prayer that I believed God was giving me the girl I asked for. I hid it in my closet because I didn't want my husband to think I was foolish. Months later at the ultrasound, my heart beat faster when the technician asked if I wanted to know the gender. Had i been a fool? Was it just chance and biology? Does God care about these things? Tears sprang in my eyes when she told me it's a girl. No one else has to believe-- I know there was a 50% chance of having the girl I wanted, but in my heart I chose to believe it was God's doing.

One night while I was pregnant I woke up and didn't feel her moving. (Babies in utero sleep a lot--no need for concern unless a couple hours go by with no movement.) I practically held my breath waiting for her to wake up, unable to go back to sleep until I was sure.
While I laid in the dark waiting, fear welled up in my heart. What if God gave me the girl I asked for, only to take her away and break my heart? What if He just wants to test me? Will I still believe in Him? I reluctantly concluded, yes, I would still believe... Helpless sadness began to settle into my heart as I resigned myself to a capricious God, arbitrary and heartless as He tests His followers. Vaguely I was aware of some questionable doctrines I had somehow picked up along the way-- if you love something or someone too much, God will take it away from you in His jealousy.  Vaguely I thought, Wait, that's not right... That's not right!

Suddenly my heart and spirit came wide awake as I shook off fear. Boldly I prayed --whispering, because my husband was sleeping, but in my heart I was shouting-- "No! My Father is not cruel! He cares about the desires of my heart! He cares about me! He would not give me the child I asked for and then destroy her. I trust You! The enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but You came to give life! I trust You to take care of us! Watch over my body, watch over this child, Father!"

Over the rest of the pregnancy I still struggled with fear and worry, but I had confidence in the goodness of my Father, and I continued to pray believing He is for me and not against me. Never again did I beg for Him to have mercy as if He were a cruel master. As my due date drew near, my water broke partially with no contractions. My midwife said the baby had plenty of fluid left, but we needed to be vigilant against infection. I still worried and prayed and fretted.

Days went by and I wrote to my church's prayer team:  "Asking for prayer that the baby gets in optimal position and the Lord's perfect timing. And also asking prayer for me, for peace and confidence. For some reason I have struggled with fear and worry for this baby all through my pregnancy. But I am choosing to trust God's good intentions."

Mike Brink, the prayer team leader, responded: "Lord, bless Aurora. Fill her with Peace. Put peace into her amniotic fluid, all thru the sac, and into the umbilical cord and baby. Bring peace, acceptance, and welcome to Baby. Bring peace into the whole process. Banish all fears and let your angels minister all the touches of peace and health and love that Baby and Mother both will need throughout and after."

That night, rather than another birth nightmare, I dreamed about a beautiful white home full of colorful books and artwork--including children's handprint art. Outside was a garden bursting with flowering vines, a cherry tree in bloom, and flowers everywhere, as if, unlike earthly life, all the plants were flowering at the same time.

The next day I was full of peace. I stopped doing exercises to get her in optimal position, I stopped taking the evening primrose supplement that was supposed to help labor start, I took the day off from worry, and sat around watching tv--not very spiritual, but that's the truth. She was born the following morning with no complications. However, as my midwife checked the placenta, she discovered that the umbilical cord was barely attached. Normally the tough gristle-like tissue surrounding the precious blood vessels is firmly anchored to the center of the placenta. But the vessels were only attached at the outer edge of the placenta, and the tough protective tissue wasn't connected at all. If the baby had got the cord wrapped around a foot and kicked, she could have died. We looked at Mike's prayer again and felt chills. My midwife said, well, you had good reason to be worried.

The day she was born, my husband said he wanted to name her Rosalyn ("pretty rose"). I had worked on a list of my favorite names, and Rosalyn was not one of them. But when he said, with a matter-of-fact shrug, "She's a rose," I remembered my garden dream and agreed. I realized that most of the names I had chosen were about me, not her. I felt God telling me that she will be different from me, reserved, a caretaker, a gentle gardener. So I chose another garden feature for her middle name, Ivy, which represents "faithfulness."

So my heart is full. I was going to write about my love for my daughter, even though she has done nothing--absolutely nothing!--to earn it. And I was going to say, how much more does our Father God love us unconditionally. But I guess I needed to tell this story first, about God's faithfulness to me and my little rose.