“I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me. My mouth is dried up like potsherd and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me in the dust of death. Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircle me; they pierce my hands and my feet. All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment. But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me.” Psalm 22:14-19

I had just spent six weeks on bed rest waiting for our third child’s safe arrival. Church family brought meals and helped with our two preschoolers along with my mom, who lived two hours away. Those six weeks were emotionally exhausting. The probable causes of the preterm labor were dire. We had so many questions; would our baby be healthy? Would we make it full-term? If he came early, what medical issues would we face? Sadly, abortion was offered as an option. I stayed in bed, prayed, and read the Word as each hour I’d count the contractions to make sure I wasn’t having too many. My days were long and the weeks seemed to stretch on forever.

At 37 weeks I got out of bed, did my Target run to get ready for baby, and he arrived the next day — 9 lb 1 oz of complete perfection. Relief and rejoicing flowed freely. It was short-lived as two months later my husband was diagnosed with Chronic Progressive Multiple Sclerosis, and it would become the hardest years of my life.