Skip to main content

Seeing and Believing


Doubt not miracles.
Blessed are those who do not see,
yet still they believe.

A wise woman once said to me: "If anybody ever tells you they don't believe in God, just let them look at a baby."

Her words brought tears to my eyes, as I watched her soft smile widen while gazing at my boys. The tears swelled not just because I appreciated the beauty and the joy that my children brought to her, but because it was the first time someone affirmed to me exactly what I had been feeling since becoming pregnant, and then even more strongly since giving birth.

I have witnessed miracles. I have had miracles born within me. I have both seen them and believed without seeing.

You may be skeptical, wondering how what seems like basic human biology can be considered miraculous. It's true, our bodies are made to reproduce. But ask a mother who has become pregnant and bore her child, ask a mother who has become pregnant and lost her child, ask a yearning mother who has never become pregnant, and too ask a mother who has held her baby born from another's womb, and I suspect you will find they acknowledge something miraculous about what their bodies have been vessels to, or what they so desperately wish they could be. Ask also a father or mother who watches for months as a womb that is not their own swells and bears their child. They too just might find that there is more to the experience of creating new life within an existing life than what is contained within the realm of textbooks. Some, including myself, will find it miraculous. We have believed without seeing.

While I was still pregnant and trying to wrap my head around the life within me, I had no idea about the miracles I would witness once my children were born. These new miracles came to life when my children arrived 8 weeks too soon. They lived in an artificial womb when they should have had two more months in mine. They breathed air into their little lungs that science says they were not ready for. They grew, and thrived, and held each other's hands as they did. I saw, and I believed.


Delight in your miracles. Believe in them when others do not see. Believe in them when you do not see. 


Join our journey again this year as we raise awareness and money for the March of Dimes to ensure every little miracle's chance at life. 

Join Our Journey: http://www.marchforbabies.org/ChiuBabies

Follow me on Instagram @merrymommyblog







Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Tiny but Mighty

Three pounds eight ounces Soft, warm weight upon my chest "Tiny but Mighty" These reassuring words came from Amy, the nurse who taught me how to express milk and use a breastpump (more on that pleasure in another post), in the few hours after delivery. As she matter-of-factly went about her duties in the first hours after my twin delivery, she simply said not to worry about the boys, they would be fine: "I say they are Tiny but Mighty." Those words became my mantra over the coming weeks. I knew she was right the moment I held Cameron for the first time. As I was wheeled into the first NICU nursery I had ever been in, I glanced rapidly around the room at the various isolettes and wondered which one held my precious baby boy. I was brought around the corner to the right and Cameron's nurse, Deanna, greeted me. I peered in at this little angel and had no idea what to do: Was I allowed to hold him? To touch him? To kiss him? More importantly... Was he ...

Memorial Day--Remembering Life Lost

Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave. O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? This Memorial Day weekend was a different kind than most of us have ever experienced. The honor and respect for our flag and all those who gave their lives for it was present, but the way we recognized this honor was vastly different. There were no crowded beaches with thundering air shows above, no parades with on-lookers cheering, no marching bands performing patriotic pomp, no pools and yards full of shouts and splashes of summer's unofficial arrival. This weekend, after months of indoor isolation, we had a profoundly different kick off to summer. In fact, while we were busy outwardly honoring the lives courageously sacrificed for our nation, many of us were inwardly reflecting on the elements of our own lives we have given up these past few months in the name of our neighbor. I don't intend to compare the fleeting inconvenience of mask-wearing and social di...

Prematurity and Pandemics

Prematurity and Pandemics The absolute hardest thing I have done in my life is delivering my twins 8 weeks early and leaving them in the hospital every single night for the first month of their lives. It was a gut-wrenching blow each and every time. What would the next day bring? When would they get out of those 4 walls and breathe fresh air? How could I ever explain to them that it wasn't supposed to be like this, and I'd never done this before either? All we could do was put hope and trust in the doctors and nurses, and even they couldn't make any promises. In the fog of this new-mom-with-no-babies-at-home trauma, it was very hard to see past the next hour, and impossible to know what impact this experience would have on the rest of my life.  This first experience with prematurity came out of nowhere. Despite my knowing that preterm delivery was the number one risk of my twin pregnancy, the moment itself came as a surprise. I was having a healthy, enjoyable pregnancy up u...