Seven months had passed by. Slowly.
On December 31st, Jon and I decided we were open to the idea of having another baby. Cameron was nearly a year old and maybe all the magic of New Year’s Eve had gotten to us, but that night as we stayed up late talking, we decided that we were ready to pull the goalie, so to speak, and allow our family to grow. It was exciting and a bit nerve wracking. I went to bed that night thinking that I would pregnant within a month or two.
But that’s not what happened.
After a few times of swearing I was pregnant, seven months, and about fifty pregnancy tests later, I started to get worried. On one hand, I was relieved that we hadn’t gotten pregnant yet considering Jon’s timeline for graduating college in December, but on the other hand, not being pregnant was eating away at me. Once the desire to have a second child set it, it was impossible to unwant it. It was consuming me and I dreaded the week prior to my period each month when my mind would race, wondering if this month was going to be the month my life would change forever, or not.
This might sound over-dramatic. I mean, we did get pregnant and have a baby once before, so why wouldn’t it happen again? But the longing for a child is not as much logical as it is primal. In the same way you sometimes feel like, “If I can’t eat a cheeseburger right now, I will die!” wanting a baby can feel similar; “If I can’t have a baby right now, I will die!”
Then, in the midst of wanting a baby and wanting my husband to graduate, like yesterday, God started to surface some really deep things in my life. Things that I’d stuffed under the bed for years. At first it felt scary and unmanageable, but then it felt like freedom as I saw how the Lord healing this area of my life would directly answer many prayers.
So one night, actually the night that the Lord surfaced this stuff I’m referring to, I finished reading my book, brushed my teeth and climbed into bed. Jon, of course, was at the wooden desk in our bedroom working away. So I said goodnight and I snuggled down into my covers. Since I was still feeling a bit raw from my time with the Lord, I decided to pray about it all before drifting off.
But I didn’t get to finish because about thirty seconds into my praying the Holy Spirit clearly interrupted my thoughts and told me, “Your womb is blessed.”
Okay, I don’t know about you, but even though I love God and seek him and want to hear from him, it’s not every friggin’ day that the Holy Spirit speaks to me in such a clear, startling fashion. However, the second it happened, I knew it was from Him because
#1 – I wasn’t even thinking or praying about having a baby. I was praying about an entirely different topic.
#2 – Erin Kidwell would never use the phrase, “Your womb is blessed.” Seriously, besides the Holy Spirit, who uses language like that???
So I sat up in bed feeling excited, a little stunned, happy and hesitant. I cleared my throat and said, “Um Jon…” “Yeah?” he replied back. “So…the Holy Spirit just told me that my womb is blessed.” “What?” “Exactly.”
We spent the next few minutes discussing what that could possibly mean. Did this mean I was pregnant right now? Or did it just mean that the Holy Spirit wanted me to know that everything was okay and that I could stop worrying about getting pregnant. Something in me wanted to believe that I must be actually pregnant, but Jon reminded me not to get my hopes up. He had seen me get disappointed six times in a row so I think his protective instincts were kicking in and trying to keep me from more hurt.
I went to bed that night feeling peace because either way I had just heard something significant and wonderful. Everything was going to be okay – God himself had told me.
The very next day I started experiencing dull cramping in my abdomen and hot flashes. Weird. But I still tried not to read into it too much.
Eleven days later though I took my 9,672nd pregnancy test but this one showed TWO little pink lines!
The moment I found out was less epic and emotional as I thought it might be. With Cameron, finding out was such a shock that I think I almost had a heart attack. This time though, probably because of the seven months of waiting, I took my time receiving the news. It took a few days for me to actually believe that it could be real.
It did, however, become more real when Jon, being quite the scholar he is these days, decided to do some research and some math. What we found pretty much blew my mind. Basically, based on my cycle and blah, blah, blah, it’s very probable that when the Holy Spirit spoke to me, was precisely when the fertilized egg could have actually implanted into my uterus. This would also explain the symptoms that appeared the following day and the timing of the positive pregnancy test.
Now, over the past few weeks, as I’ve felt sick, then better, then sick again, this story continues to grow more near and dear to my heart. I know that every child is from the Lord, but that became so real to me when the Lord REALLY SPOKE TO ME. He told me that my womb was blessed and then in reality it was blessed. He told me before it was possible for anyone to know. THE LORD heard all my prayers for a baby and at just the right time he allowed it to happen.
The Lord has done a lot for me in my life and that is a radical understatement, but this is just one of those things I know that I will never forget. And I’m excited to tell this child about how they were truly a gift from the Lord.
“I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him.” ~1 Samuel 1:27