We had been been swept up in an overwhelming love story. My baby and I had stood in a place to testify to that truth and it had washed over us. My heart longed to hold in my hands the hope I had held in my heart, to lay eyes on the gift the Lord had knit together in love for our family. Yet, I knew the most painfully beautiful challenge was ahead for us both. Giving birth for me. Being born for him.
From the point that my son was able to be terminated, I would stand in praying for God to give birth to something beautiful at 320 Fulton, starting with you, Dr. ------. I will be going away when I give birth to my son. It is with tears that I share with you the significance of his name. His name is Noah.
Although I stood to fight for LIFE with the pro-life officer who valued all human lives equally, clinic workers and the unborn, I was battling fear when I thought of returning to my prayer post by the driveway the coming Tuesday. I hoped the clinic workers knew that I was there praying for God to bless them, not strike them dead.