JD was in London the week I found out I was pregnant. I had some random heavy-ish spotting so I called our family physician (who just happens to also be one of my closest friends - we'll call her AK for privacy purposes) and she told me to go ahead and take a pregnancy test. JD and I had been trying for a second child so I was thrilled when the test revealed those two dainty pink lines. However, because of the random spotting, AK suggested that I get some bloodwork done to check hormone levels, etc. I waited until JD returned from his trip before getting my bloodwork taken because I wanted him to be there for whatever the results held. But something in me still felt uneasy about the pregnancy. 

It doesn’t seem like a long time to be pregnant but, in the one week I knew a precious life was forming inside my womb, the Lord told me to celebrate that sweet little life. JD and I were both hesitant to get excited right away but God kept telling me, “Celebrate this baby. If there comes a time to mourn, I will be with you.” Even with Mia Kai, we were hesitant to truly believe I was pregnant until twelve weeks; yet, the Holy Spirit continued to whisper those words to me: "Celebrate the life. Celebrate the life." Because denial is an unfortunate strong suit of mine, I'm afraid I wouldn't have believed I was truly pregnant if we hadn't take that week to celebrate. It's just another area where Jesus knows my heart better than I know my own.

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