The rain was pouring down and the wipers couldn’t keep up even on high speed. Cars were parked along the shoulder of the road underneath bridge overpasses seeking shelter. The sky was dark, and visibility was almost zero. I could barely make out the lines on the road.

The imagery matched our emotions. We couldn’t see beyond our pain. The emotional weight of the burden that we feared on the other side of the doctor’s appointment at the U of I hospitals was soul and dream crushing. The storm that was raging outside our car felt like the storm raging in our hearts.

August 15, 2018, we walked into the ultrasound room fearing for the worst, yet praying that God would show us a healthy boy. We had poured over Psalm 77 and Psalm 86. We were begging for the miraculous. Just a week earlier, we had received the results from bloodwork that indicated our son had a spinal deformity. We were praying for a false positive, or at least a minor issue that could be treated, or that would be compatible with life.

Oh the waiting. The waiting was excruciating. Our hearts were racing. We so felt God’s call to expand our family and knew that we were obedient in following what he wanted us to do. Could he call us to this place, only to crush us? What is God’s purpose in this? We were scared.