In 2007, Mark and I experienced several true, literal, not-exaggerating miracles. First, we got pregnant. And then it was a healthy pregnancy. And then it wasn’t. But somehow, The Kiddo and I were okay. No, better than okay; we were great (eventually).
And did I mention that in the middle of the whole mess, I lost my job?
But we were still quite okay. Thanks to a mighty, merciful God who knows the plans He makes for us* and works all things together for good**.
Here’s my story.
I got laid off when I was seven months pregnant.
I’m not sure heartburn is supposed to feel like this.
Rushed to the hospital, or I shaved my legs for this?
Who’s scared? Not me. Um, okay…me.
And then it was D-Day.
A baby and a raccoon moved into my house – on the same day.
I’m not sure heartburn is supposed to feel like this.
Rushed to the hospital, or I shaved my legs for this?
Who’s scared? Not me. Um, okay…me.
And then it was D-Day.
A baby and a raccoon moved into my house – on the same day.
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