Yes.

It’s easy to pray for what you want and envision a specific outcome, not unlike a preschooler asking for a snack and expecting said snack in exactly .3 seconds. But offering up those same hopes and desires and then trusting God completely with whatever his response may be? Well, that’s the opposite of easy.

In 1 Samuel, we meet Hannah — a good and dearly beloved wife who was unable to bear children. Her story says the Lord had “closed her womb”, but that truth clearly didn’t rest easy on her soul. Far from it – she “was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.”

I’d like to have coffee with Hannah, having spent a fair amount of time having it out with God myself when it comes to the storyline he’s chosen for me and my family. Kneeling at Norah’s crib, begging God to spare her life. Arguing with God about why he took my mother away before she could help me navigate mothering a living child. Crumpled in a ball at Zoe’s 20 week ultrasound after hearing the words ‘there is no heartbeat’.

Hannah prayed with her whole being for a child. But her prayer was more than that, more than motherhood – she offered any child she would be blessed with to live in service of the Lord. She wanted a child desperately, but she chose transform her desire into an offering of obedience to God. Hannah prayed, and at this point in her story, the Lord met her with a ‘yes’.

It’s easy to see Hannah’s story as overflowing with God’s grace and favor. But to me, as someone who has walked a road in the same valley, Hannah’s story is so much more than that. I don’t see Hannah as demanding a child from God and God granting her wishes. I see Hannah kneeling exhausted at the feet of her God, handing her desire off to Him and saying, “This desire for a child, it’s yours now. Use my story for your glory.” God could have just as easily said no, and I believe He still would have used her story for his glory. But this time, he chose to say Yes.

It’s that beautiful story of trusting God to author your life that gave us our newest daughter’s name.

Hannah Jae entered this world on Friday to the sound of multiple voices (including some of her medical team) singing along to worship music. It was the most joyful, peaceful, and beautiful birth we’ve had the chance to experience. Making her appearance with a cry that brought the room to tears, at 8lbs 15oz and 20in long, our big girl is strong and healthy. We’re all home now, taking things easy and soaking in all the snuggles.

Throughout my pregnancy with Hannah, I experienced a peace I couldn’t accurately describe or understand. That doesn’t mean fear and anxiety weren’t present, they absolutely still came in full force at times. Pregnancy after loss is incredibly difficult. But peace was ever-present, and that peace has carried through Hannah – in her birth, our recovery, even her personality peace has cradled our entire experience.

As always, the team that supported us were beyond amazing. From our incredible doula and dear, dear friend Jen praying over our us before surgery and walking with us through it all, to the nurses and doctors advocating for what we want, to the OR team that hummed along with our worship music, to every nurse who came in and acknowledged all of our babies — everyone’s attention to detail didn’t go unrecognized.

To every person in our lives who came alongside us: thank you to the moon and back. Friends and family helping with Lora and Nori, our neighbors plowing our yard (naturally she was a blizzard baby born during the one and only big snowstorm of the year) and providing us a delicious supper, our freezer and fridge that are full of meals made with love, the gifts we’ve been given that honor Lora’s big-sisterhood, the photographers capturing this precious time, the small groups that have been praying for us, the coworkers that have been putting up with (laughing along with me about) my pregnancy brain, and every single comment, prayer and hug that has carried us to where we are now.

Thank you.

We have been blessed with every child we’ve been given the chance to steward through this life, regardless of how long their stay is. Our long walk in the valley has helped us learn to trust God in his ‘No’s and ‘Not Yet’s.

But right now, we’re joyfully embracing his Yes.