Jeremiah 29:11 – “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
James 1:17 – “Every good and perfect gift is from above.”
Here I am, sitting in front of my computer, staring at a blank page, wondering how to write this post. Do I still know how to write about my life? Have I lost the flow I once had?
Maybe it’s pregnancy brain.
Maybe it’s because so much has happened.
Or maybe it’s simply because life has a way of humbling us and reminding us that we are not in control — even of the words we think we should easily put together.
They say life is a crazy ride, and it truly is. In a blink of an eye, everything can turn upside down… and then somehow right side up again. But I’ve learned that none of it is random. Nothing is accidental. God knows exactly what He is doing, even when we don’t.
If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you know that I experienced a miscarriage in the past. It was the most painful experience — physically and emotionally. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, and I certainly wouldn’t wish to relive it myself. Yet, as hard as it was, it shaped me. It gave me a deeper reverence for life and a deeper understanding of who God is, especially in suffering.
God is not absent in pain. He is present and worthy of our praise even when we don’t have strength!
Our Decision and My Need for Control
When Steve and I got married, we didn’t plan to get pregnant straight away. We wanted time to grow together as husband and wife, to solidify our marriage. We were also walking a path that, at the time, didn’t feel like the most stable environment to bring children into.
If you asked me today whether I would have done things differently, I might say yes. Not because the decision was wrong, but because I see now how much I tried to manage life instead of trusting God with it. But that’s probably another blog post for another day.
I’ve always been very aware of my body. My cycle was regular, predictable — I tracked it, understood it, and honestly felt like I had it “under control.”
First, I controlled it to avoid pregnancy.
Then, once we decided to try, I controlled it to literally “achieve” pregnancy.
Tracking cycles.
Tracking temperatures.
Timing everything.
Steve, on the other hand, was calm. Peaceful. Certain. He had this quiet, steady faith that we would have children. His confidence often encouraged me — especially after the disappointment of seeing my period arrive month after month.
Still, the thoughts came:
“Maybe I don’t deserve this.”
“Maybe God is withholding something.”
“Maybe I’ve done something wrong.”
And then came the outside voices:
“You’re not that young anymore.”
“You’ve had a miscarriage before.”
“Don’t wait too long.”
If you’ve ever tried to conceive, you know how heavy those words can feel.
The Fibroid and the Options
In the middle of all this, I found out I had a fibroid in my uterus. Small — but there.
Was it discouraging? Yes.
Did it add pressure? Absolutely.
But I made a conscious decision not to let that diagnosis define me. I chose to speak life. I declared that my body was wonderfully made, that my uterus was healthy, and that it would bear life according to God’s will.
Around that time, my family doctor suggested a referral to a fertility clinic. We agreed to go, grateful for the healthcare system we have in Portugal. The doctors were kind and professional, and I am thankful for that. Yet deep down, I had no peace about going through fertility treatments. Not because there is anything wrong with some of the options given — but because they just didn’t feel right for us. We had always believed in letting “nature do its thing” and we wanted God to be the only source.
Still, if I’m honest, in the very back of my mind I was still keeping that option in my back pocket. Just in case. Just to feel safer.
The Moment Everything Shifted
One day, after a conversation with a sister in Christ, something in my heart was exposed. I realised I wasn’t truly trusting God. I wasn’t remembering how faithful He had been throughout my life. I wasn’t resting in His promises.
I had subtly and maybe somewhat unconsciously placed my trust in control, science, and outcomes — instead of in the Creator of life Himself.
So I repented.
From my heart, I prayed:
“Lord, I repent for trying to control what only belongs to You. For forgetting that You are sovereign, that You know what is best, and that Your timing is perfect. I let go. If motherhood is not what You have for me, I say Amen. And if it is, I surrender the how and the when to You. I trust You — not my strength, not science, not my plans. May Your will be done.”
And just like that, something lifted.
The weight was gone.
I had truly let go.
That same month, we found out I was pregnant.
I’m now writing this nine months pregnant, and it has been a journey marked by peace, confidence, and gratitude. Knowing from the very beginning that this was God’s doing gave me so much peace and a deep assurance: He will finish what He has begun.
Some might say, “You relaxed, and that’s why it happened.”
But I don’t believe that.
I believe God wanted my heart.
He wanted to confirm His Word.
He wanted to remind me — once again — who He is and that He is faithful.
My intention in sharing this is simple: to encourage you.
Whether you are trying to conceive, walking through waiting, or navigating change — trust God.
The Bible tells us “Do not fear” 365 times. One for each day. Jesus Himself constantly points us back to faith.
Faith is the opposite of fear.
Surrender is the opposite of control.
Let go.
Give it to God.
He will do it — if it is best for you — and when it is best for you.
