All Done Begging.

On Wednesday, the nurse from my OB's office called me and told me that my progesterone was low and that it could put the twins in danger. They started me immediately on progesterone treatments. Within seconds I was Googling and begging God to spare my babies. I just wanted Him to keep those tiny, perfect heartbeats strong and alive.

I've been through a lot of emotions this week. Mostly desperation and depression. How could He even think of taking something so precious from me?

My thinking is slowly changing. It's not God who's robbing me of my precious babies. It's me, who's robbing God of my trust and faith. It's the Devil, who's robbing me of my peace.

Maybe the babies are just fine. Maybe they're not. Maybe I'm going to have perfectly healthy twins come November. Maybe I'm not. There is a reason that there isn't a window into the womb.

I already have three perfect blessings, and I don't even deserve those. Does someone with so little faith deserve to bring up three small souls? This voice inside me keeps saying, "You of little faith...don't you know by now?"

Out of every tragedy comes some sort of beauty. Out of every potential tragedy is the opportunity to grow. As I sit and cry, I keep those opportunities so far from me. As I give God conditions and try to make deals with Him, I know that the only prayer He really wants to hear is, "Thy Will Be Done."

I'm all done begging. Done begging for more. Until I learn to appreciate the mere fact that I'm alive, I really don't see that I have a place to beg. How can I start begging when I never even give thanks for what's in front of me in the first place?

I am still bothered by the way the nurse really didn't give me too much to go on. It was clear that she thinks we're going to lose the babies. That's rough. But I know that a number is just that, and that those heart beats were a good sign. From here, all I have left is trust in God. And much to the chagrin of the Devil, I do trust in Him. A lot.