Five years ago, I never imagined the journey God would lead us on. I entered this season longing for children, but what I didn’t realize was how deeply God longed for my heart.
I’ve always believed in Jesus, but through three pregnancy losses and the early, terrifying arrival of our 26-weeker twins, God brought me to a place where I no longer just believed in Him; I depended on Him.
Infertility and loss can shake you to your core. For me, the pain wasn’t in not conceiving; it was in conceiving and then losing. Repeatedly. Every positive test was followed by heartbreak. I began to wonder if I was broken, if something was wrong with me spiritually or physically.
But in His mercy, He didn’t leave me in my questioning.
In the silence and sorrow, God became my comfort. In the waiting and the grief, He revealed areas of my heart I hadn’t surrendered. Through our trials, I came to know Him not just as the giver of life, but as the sustainer of my soul. Like clay on the Potter’s wheel, He was shaping me, not always gently, but always lovingly.
When our twins, Ava and Isaac, were born at just 26 weeks, we faced new fears, NICU trauma, and countless uncertainties. But God met us there too—with peace that surpassed understanding, with daily provision, with grace for each moment.
James 1:2–3 became my anchor: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.”
Motherhood is a gift, one I cherish with all my heart. But I’ve learned this: Jesus is the prize. Not a baby. Not a family. Not a miracle on this side of Heaven. It’s Him. He is the treasure.
If you’re in the middle of your story—waiting, grieving, questioning—I want to tell you this: your pain is not wasted. God is still writing your story, and the greatest joy is not just in the outcome, but in the One who holds you through it all.
He remembered me. He shaped me. And He is enough.