**The following story is shared from the heart and life of Chayna Green – a sister in Christ; an incredible friend; and a prayer warrior born from the fires of her own tests and trials. I’ve left the story in Chayna’s own words. It’s beautifully and vulnerably written. I am confident it will bless you in a deeply powerful way.**

Life was moving fast in 2013.

My husband and I had been married for three years, had just moved into a new apartment, and were working nonstop.

Children weren’t on my radar—I had assumed I couldn’t conceive, especially with my PCOS diagnosis. But in October of that year, I took a pregnancy test and saw something I never expected: two pink lines.

I was pregnant.

I wasn’t trying to get pregnant, but the moment I saw the results, excitement and joy filled my heart. I was going to be a mother.

I had no idea that my journey to motherhood would include heartbreak, grief, and deep questions about God’s plan for my life.

In January 2014, I went to a routine doctor’s appointment, expecting the usual checkup. But as soon as my doctor examined me, everything shifted. She told me my cervix was dangerously thin and that I needed to go to the hospital immediately. I was rushed to the hospital by ambulance – my mind spinning, my heart pounding.

Then came the devastating words: “There’s nothing we can do. You should go ahead and terminate the pregnancy.”

The doctor’s tone was cold, detached—there was no empathy, no comfort. Just a clinical assessment that left me stunned.

But I knew one thing for certain: I would not terminate my pregnancy. I was going to trust God, no matter how impossible the situation seemed. If my baby was meant to be here, then he would be.

I was placed on strict bed rest in the hospital, with doctors doing everything they could to prevent my cervix from tearing.

Those days were a blur of fear, prayers, and desperate hope.

In the early hours of February 2, 2014, at around 2:00 AM, I went into labor. My son was coming, far too soon.

He was originally due in late June, right around my husband’s birthday. I had dreamed of a summer baby, of warm days filled with laughter and baby snuggles. But instead, I found myself in a hospital room, delivering my baby boy into the world far too early.

I didn’t want to see him. The pain was too much, the grief too heavy.

My mother, however, wanted to hold him, and she eventually brought him over to me. When I finally looked at my son, I saw his tiny, fragile body, and I watched as his little chest rose one last time.

I broke down.

Through sobs, I whispered, “I’m so sorry that my body wasn’t strong enough to carry you the way it needed to.”

The weight of guilt was crushing. For so long after that moment, I carried the belief that my body had failed my child.

A nurse who had been in the room during my labor began to cry. I remember thinking—she must have seen so many babies come and go, yet she still weeps for mine. Somehow, her tears comforted me.

Leaving the hospital without my son was one of the hardest things I have ever done. The world outside felt so normal—people were going to work, driving their cars, laughing, living.

But my world had stopped.

Grief consumed me, and anger followed close behind. I resented my cousin, who had been pregnant at the same time as me and was still carrying her baby.

I questioned God: “Why did she get to keep her baby and I didn’t? Why, God? I did things the ‘right’ way. I was married. I was ready. So why me?”

The enemy had convinced me that I deserved a child more than she did because I was married. That because I had followed the “rules,” I had somehow earned the right to be a mother first.

But that is not how God works. His blessings are not given based on our own measure of worthiness—they are given according to His perfect will, His love, and His divine plan.

The truth is, none of us are more or less deserving of God’s goodness. His gifts are not rewards for our perfection or proof of our righteousness. They are acts of His grace, given in His timing, for His purposes.

It took time for me to see it, but I now know that my cousin’s blessing did not mean I was forgotten. Her joy was not meant to be a source of my pain. And once I released that resentment, God began to heal my heart in a new way.

We went to the funeral home to make arrangements for my son. I never imagined myself sitting there, planning a cremation for my baby.

Then, something unexpected happened.

The man handling the arrangements, a complete stranger, looked at me and said, “I will take care of everything for you. Free of charge.”

I knew in that moment that God saw me.

Even in my pain, even in my loss—He was still with me.

Months later, in God’s perfect timing, I conceived again. But this time, I was prepared. Because of what happened before, my doctors took the necessary precautions, and I received a cerclage—a stitch to keep my cervix from thinning too soon.

Had I not gone through my loss, I wouldn’t have known I needed that procedure. And that cerclage is what helped me carry my son, Alexander Jerome Green, to term. He was born in December 2014—strong, healthy, and full of life.

Two years later, God blessed me with my daughter, Kaysi Green, who will be nine this year.

Looking back, I see how God used my pain to prepare me for the future. I see now that He was not punishing me—He was equipping me. What felt like the worst moment of my life became the reason my next pregnancies were successful. For that, I am grateful.

Psalm 30:11 – “You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.”
Psalm 34:18 – “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

These verses reminded me that grief doesn’t last forever, that God sees every tear, and that He is always working—even when we can’t see it.

If you are walking through a season of loss, grief, or confusion, know this: God is with you.

Talk to Him. Period.

When you’re angry, talk to Him.

When you’re sad, tell Him.

He can handle it. He wants to hear it. God is not afraid of your emotions—He welcomes them.

So if you’re lost, if you’re broken, if you’re hurting—just talk to Him. He’s listening. He loves you. And He will lead you through.

Trust Him. He’s got you.

~~~~~

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Remember, your life is a gift to the world and your God story matters.

Someone needs to hear it.

Until next time, Grace and Glory!