Three Years and a Thousand Prayers Ago.

Three years ago this very day my daughter was born. 36 weeks into pregnancy I was sent to the hospital where I was told that at some point I would be induced if I didn’t go into labor on my own by that point. I was shocked, scared, worried, I was trying to remain calm on the outside, because I didn’t want anyone to think I was weak or just another young woman about to give birth just outside of their teenage years. I would not cry or so much as squint an eye while being poke and prodded for four days before giving birth. I was counting on those other 4 weeks I was supposed to have, I had a lot to figure out before I had B. But in the long run God knew what he was doing, he saved me from having to worry and strain about what I was going to do. He more or less threw me out of a plane and told me to trust him (maybe a bad terminology). Six days later I was (reluctantly) leaving the hospital with my 5 pound little girl and my mom was driving me “home”. Think about that young girls if you think you’re old enough to have a baby think about who’s going to have to drive you home from the hospital and if the first person who pops into your head is your mom, I suggest you rethink your plans. It wasn’t for the fact that I or B’s dad were to young to do any those things, it was just a fact of the poor chose of a partner on my part. Thankfully I did have my mom, and although she and I have had our differences over the years, but when it comes down to it she has always been there for me. We went back to B’s dads friends house to set up they arrangements for all three of us to be staying there, and for the next few days B’s dad had to drive us around (without his drivers licences) to all the doctor’s appointments we had scheduled for the next few days. Now I won’t go into anymore details about the rough next couple of months B and I had. Rather my point is God had a plan, he got us through all those times of trouble and heartache. He knew that if given the chance to wait four more weeks to bring B into the world, I would have spent them worrying and stressing about all the things I couldn’t change. And he saved me from having to give birth naturally, which I was kind of terrified of. Even though it was a longer and more painful recovery to have a C-Section and I glad in the long run I had one, since I had, had so many kinds of drug pumped into my system over the four days I was there before I had B, I was so out of it I don’t know it I could have made it through actually giving birth naturally. God gave me a great support group of family and friends, who were a phone call away and were constantly stopping by or calling to check on me and B. They all got everything we needed to leave the hospital with, together before we left. My “motherly” instincts kicked in when I need them to give me the motivation and God gave me the strength I needed to realize that all the responsibility was going to be on me to handle the situation on my own as a single mom. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through was realizing that B’s dad was not going to be the man or father B and I needed him to be for us, at the hospital 36 weeks pregnant in a hospital room by yourself because your fiancee doesn’t care enough to stay there with you while your hole world is being flipped upside down, that will cut deep let me just say. But we made it. We went through so much and yet we’re still here stronger in the fact that God got us through all of that and made B and I the strong woman/girls that we are today. Three years may not seem like a very long time, but trust me in terms of these last three years she and I are worlds apart from where we were three years ago exactly today. By the grace of God.


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