If I Ever Got A Tattoo… Part 2

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Read “If I Ever Got A Tattoo Part One” Here

I thought he would leave me and I wondered if I was making the right decision in continuing on in this pregnancy. Most family kept their opinions to themselves. Support, encouragement, hand holding, prayer…boy, did I need that! People, even our loved ones, often do not know how to handle hard things so they say and do nothing. It’s hella lonely. It made me question every lonely step I made. I wanted someone to tell me I was OK, that I was doing the right thing. No one told me I was doing the right thing. No one told me I was doing the wrong thing either. Our walk with Christ is a funny thing sometimes, however, because what I saw so clearly months and months later was that I was never really alone; Christ was actually carrying me in His arms the entire time.

I experienced morning sickness like crazy and because Dennis was out of town, I went to stay with my mom and dad for a few days. While trying to recover from another rendezvous with my good friend, Porcelain, my mom called out that someone was at the door for me. Uuugh, the last thing I needed was to hide my sweat drenched straggly hair and paint on a plastic smile.(We did not tell people of my pregnancy for many, many months–I mean, how do you do that? This was NOT a celebration!) Mom insisted, so I begrudgingly dragged myself to the door. It was the flower delivery man with the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen.

The card, from Dennis, read, “We’ll get through this together. I love you”.

I slept soundly that night for the first time in weeks. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew I wouldn’t be going it alone.

Later, when I asked Dennis what made him change his mind, he said he had been sitting in a bar in Florida and because his thoughts were so heavy, he began talking to “friendly strangers” sitting nearby. They encouraged him to love me the best he could. And that’s exactly what he did! God totally works in mysterious ways–and in bars!

I scheduled an appointment with a midwife and moved through the next couple of months still not knowing exactly what we were going to do: raise this baby as our own or place her for adoption. I did not get attached. I did not fall in love with her. I did not curse her either. In actuality, I felt sorry for her because no matter where she ended up, her story would be one that begins tragically, or at least that’s what I thought then (I really want to write about that someday).

Five or six months into the pregnancy, the doctor discovered an abnormality with the baby during a routine ultrasound and was concerned enough to send us to the hospital for a more detailed ultrasound. The only problem was they couldn’t get me in for a couple of weeks. No worries. It was what it was and I went about my business.

I was indiffernent.


I found myself crying. I found myself praying over her. I said to myself over and over again that I didn’t love her or care about her, but I was lying to myself. I was trying not to love something that the world often deems as evil or monstrous or broken, or so worthless they’d throw her away… The problem is I did.

I did L O V E her.

I loved her so much my heart nearly broke when I realized I might lose her or that she might be experiencing pain or be born with an irreversible abnormality or…

Timidly, I confessed to Dennis that I loved her, that I wanted to raise her as our own. He sat there for what seemed an eternity before a smile slowly crept across his face as he nodded, gulping hard, he said in a near whisper, “Yeah, me too”.

The days waiting for the in-depth ultrasound passed slowly and by the time the day arrived Dennis and I were both so nervous, I doubt either one of us had any finger nails left to bite off! Laying there in the dim room, lit only by the machine itself, we waited with baited breath for the news. The technician didn’t say anything. Instead, she moved the Doppler quickly from one place to another and then back again. Her brows furrowed with each movement. Her concerned look caused our hearts to sink because we knew the news could be bad. Finally, she looked up, smiled and said, “I’ve no idea why you are here. There is nothing wrong with your baby. Would you like to know the sex?” My eyes filled with tears and kept filling no matter my efforts to pull my act together. I was having a baby. We were having a baby. I loved this baby and this baby was in perfect health. She proceeded to tell us we were having a girl.

Dennis and I thought of names for a few weeks, but nothing seemed special enough. Then one night, I covered the names in the baby name book and read only the meanings of the names. When I came across the meaning: “Pearl” with the scripture reference in Matthew 13:45-46, which says, “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a Merchant looking for fine pearls. When He found one of great value, He went away, sold everything He had, and He bought it”. That was it! I uncovered the hidden name and there before my eyes was the most beautiful, perfect name for our baby:


When she was placed into my arms sixteen years ago, she cried and cried and nestled into the crook of my neck, right where she belonged. She nestled and oohed and cooed and we held her, thanking Jesus the entire day and night long. I did not sleep that night. On purpose. I didn’t want to miss a single moment of her. I wanted to breathe her all in. I wanted to looked over every square inch of her body. I wanted to pray fervently over her hands and feet and her heart and ask the Lord that they would glorify Him her whole life long. I kissed her more times than I am able to count. I nuzzled my cheeks against hers. I breathed in her sweet baby smell. I loved her.

I loved everything about her.


Meg and I. Sixteen years later, this photograph still makes me cry! #happytears

About midnight the phone rings. It was Margie, my midwife. She was crying, which completely threw me off. I asked her if everything was OK, if there was something wrong with my baby. She apologized for scaring me, for calling at such a late hour, and then she tells me she has a confession to make. I’ve no idea where this conversation is going, but my eyes are firmly fixed on my baby in my arms so the world could have exploded all around me and I would have been none the wiser.

She proceeded to tell me that she watched Dennis and I closer than most of her patients because of our circumstances. She confided that although she is not for abortion under normal circumstances, she would have recommended it in our case. She went on to say she never gives her opinion unless asked directly and even then she’s cautious. We never asked. She said with each appointment, she did not understand our increasing joy– and today when she placed our baby into our arms she glimpsed God in a way she had never known Him before. I cry still when I share this part of our story because my response was, “Me too, Margie. Me too”.

God is SO good. I cannot help but to think of Isaiah 61: 1-3
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach the good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord”.

Man, I love this! If I could ever get past my fear of needles, I would totally tattoo this on my body somewhere. Since the likelihood of me not getting over this fear is great, I will instead try to live from this place; this place of grace and freedom. #adjustingmycrown

Related Posts:
My Testimony
From Where I Stand
Rewriting Our “Ish-tastic” Past Pt. 1
Rewriting Our “Ish-Tastic” Stories Pt 2


17 thoughts on “If I Ever Got A Tattoo… Part 2

  1. Pingback: If I Ever Got A Tattoo… Part 1 | Saturated In Seattle

  2. I am in tears. (Not just pregnant tears, haha P) Everything about this story is edifying. That is so awesome that your midwife, Margie, was touched by your love for your daughter. That she was brought closer to God and let you know in that sacred time of falling in love with Megyn. And I don’t think you need a tattoo. From what it seems from your writing, you are forever wearing your garment of praise. God bless you and your family and everyone your story has touched.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you! Your words, “you are forever wearing your garment of praise” brought tears to my eyes. I never ever would have imagined the unfathomable joy I get to treasure daily from such a horrific night—a night that certainly changed the course of my life—but not for all bad. It reminds me of the verse somewhere in Genesis about “What Satan intends for evil, God intends for good”. I am a firm believer that God can bring glory from the ruins.
      P.S. I probably won’t ever get a tattoo! : )


  3. Oh how I miss you! Thank you for sharing your heart, your story and your life. You are a living beautiful testimony. I would love another chance to sit with you and have coffee and share our hearts. I love your heart for Jesus, your family and others. May Jesus continue to use you to share your story & HIs and to create a safe place for those who need to hear both. Praying that one day our paths may cross again.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Cara!
      OMGoodness! You have no idea the size of smile that just spread across my face when your name appeared on my screen! It’s been close to a dozen years since I’ve seen you!
      You got a first-row seat to so much of our healing. I was, and continue to be, incredibly grateful for such treasured friends when I needed them most! MOPS was huge for me–spending time with like-minded, encouraging mommas that continued to point me to Jesus—life changing for sure! And now look, our babies are nearly fully grown!
      Thank you for your sweet words. God is so good, so good–my heart nearly bursts when I ponder all His goodness!


  4. You amaze me! Each time I read your writings, such tears come! I am truly blessed by knowing you & Dennis! It took alot to go through all of this for the both of you, & then to share it with us all! God is using you & your testimony, to proclaim His goodness! May God continue to bless you & your family each & every day! I love you! From Jo Ann

    Liked by 2 people

    • I went to a conference a few months ago and at the end of the conference, we were given a piece of paper and asked to write the word in which we hoped to live out during this next year. While my friend sat racking her mind for just one word of the hundreds of possibilities, only one word came to my mind: Courageous!
      I have sat on God’s goodness for so long that now, in keeping this blog–and feeling somewhat safe because I am not having to look people in the eye when I share these hard stories–I feel as if the flood gates have been opened!
      It is my hope that although people may be touched by the stories themselves, that they are able to see more of Christ’s beautiful character, more of His love and forgiveness for us.
      I’ll keep doing my part: sharing; and I’ll let Him do His part: everything else!
      Thank you so much for reading! And thank you for sharing so much of your own life with us.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. And… my life is forever changed. This is such an incredible story. I have often thought about people in your situation. As I am absolutely in full support of keeping life under any circumstances, I often wondered if I would be strong enough in the situation you found yourself in. The way God worked in every single thing that happened. The way he “forced” you to fall in love with your daughter by giving you a scare for her health. I mean… that is unbelievable. Thank you so much for sharing this. I am awed by this story. Wow.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Now, I am the one sitting here in tears—and goose bumps because never in a million years would I have imagined that this part of story would be shared, but my daughter, Meg, wants to write her story and she asked me to tell her how it all began…talk about a scary conversation. She was so brave to listen, to digest it, and ask follow up questions. I hope that when she writes her part, she will allow me to share it. I am completely awed by her—my constant reminder of God’s sovereignty!

      Liked by 2 people

  6. Pingback: Getting Personal with”Black Lives Matter” | Saturated In Seattle

  7. Wow! This is such a powerful story! I am so glad you shared it and shared it so well! I had no idea how this was going to end because I’ve never read your blog before! So you took me on the journey with you beautifully. Your story is amazing and your writing talent is worthy of pursuit.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Susie! Your encouragement came at just the right time! My heart and mind have not seen eye to eye on being this transparent…I feel raw one moment and strong in the next. I am still learning how to walk courageously in my faith. I am learning that genuine faith calls us beyond our boarders of comfort and that it is here where we meet God in a new light–a light that reveals more of His beautiful character, His abounding grace, and love for us. It is here, in this first step, we begin to grow. So, here’s to growing—even with a few tears and acquiring battle scars along the way.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Pingback: The Greatest Lie Ever Told | Saturated In Seattle

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