A story of one of strong women we serve:
I had always believed that I couldn’t carry the weight of the world. There I sat waiting for the doctor’s weighty results. I patted my stomach and took a deep breath.
Years ago when I was a child my mother endured years of abuse from my stepdad. She never talked about the marks on her face but the nights we would run away from him, I would watch her cry and heave brokenness I knew he was hurting her but we never talked about it. We ran away twelve times before my twelfth birthday. I knew my mother couldn’t carry the weight of this world and it always made my heart sink. I loved her, in spite of it all.
Then I too found myself in a relationship like my mother did with my stepdad. I fell into the trap quickly because he had money and a car and told me he loved me. But soon, his anger found it’s way in the likeness of bruises on the nape of my neck and the inside of my thighs. Too many times to count. I knew I had to leave, so in an impulsive moment, I packed up that same pick up truck I grew up with and left the state. I drove three hundred miles to leave an old life. The first morning I woke up in a motel, I spent the morning nauseated and realized I was late. How could I carry a child living in a motel with nothing to my name?
My doctor walked into the door and sat thoughtfully in the chair. The ultrasound equipment revealed what I had already known in my gut to be true.
“It’s true, you’re pregnant.”
My heart sunk.
But she didn’t stop there. “It looks like there are two!”
My eyes welled up. I wanted to find joy but I had none. In fact, I had literally nothing to my name.
She noticed my tears and silence and moved closer toward me. She grabbed my hand and said, “I don’t know your story. I don’t know your pain. But do you know what is weightier than grief? Love. Grief doesn’t hold us, our past doesn’t hold us, our circumstances don’t hold us. Love holds us. “
I looked up at her kind face and thought, “Is this a weight I could hold? Did God trust me with all of this goodness?”
It was then I knew I was carrying the weight of my new, beautiful world and I could write a different story. My new story had two names written all over it. I had already left a life full of destruction and now was the time to rise and choose life. A could choose a life that doesn’t end in grief, neglect and abuse. A life that invited me to honor the weight of what was to come. That doctor gave me the invitation and reminded me of this gift. I needed the courage of someone to tell me that they would hold onto hope for me, even if I couldn’t do it for myself.
She told me that she would stand by me and put me in touch with people who would not only love and pray for me but would show up practically for my unborn children. Being at Dream Centers showed me that love is the weightiest virtue of them all, and with their help, I too could bear it.