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Mysterious Ways: A Blessed Event

Seven years. That’s how long they’d been trying to have a baby. Would they receive a sign from above?

Sign for expectant mother parking

My husband, Jerry, drove us to church Sunday morning. I stared out the window of our minivan, looking for a sign. Not a street sign—a sign from heaven.

I’d always believed that when God has a plan for you, he makes it known. But if that was true, all the signs pointed toward something I didn’t want to accept. I couldn’t even bring myself to glance at the backseat. Empty. No car seat. No baby.

We swung into the church parking lot. It was already nearly full. Parking attendants directed cars left and right. Jerry flipped on his blinker and began to turn right—toward the main lot, which was easier to exit from after the service let out.

An attendant ran in front of us, motioning us to the left. Great. Another reminder that Jerry and I couldn’t get to where we wanted to be.

Seven years. That’s how long we’d been trying to have a baby. I was 35 when we got married, so we didn’t want to waste any time. My life was all about kids. I was a middle school teacher. I couldn’t wait for the day I’d be able to help my own little one grow and learn.

My ob-gyn discovered I had a medical condition that prevents ovulation. We tried every treatment option there was. Nothing worked. In vitro fertilization was our last resort. Our first cycle failed. At my age now, 42, I had less than a five percent chance of becoming pregnant, even with IVF.

Still, Jerry and I decided to give it one more try. I’d had the last procedure the day before.

The parking attendant waved us toward the front of the church. He must be new, I thought. Those were handicapped spaces. Jerry tried to turn around to find another spot, but the attendant got in the way again, even more animated.

“Boy, he really wants us to turn left!” Jerry said.

The attendant directed us into a space right by the church door. He nodded and walked away.

“You think it’s really okay to park here?” I asked.

“I think we’re meant to,” Jerry said. “Sandi, look.”

In front of us was a sign. Parking for Expectant Mothers Only.

Nine months after that, our beautiful, healthy daughter, Bella Grace, entered the world.

 

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