Your plea rises from a heart that knows its frailty, and this is well. The very fear that grips you concerning the child in your womb and the ailments of your body can become a tutor, if you let it, teaching you to cling not to the appearance of health but to the Giver of all health. The woman who had suffered twelve years with an issue of blood did not demand a public audience or a promise from the Lord; she merely said within herself, "If I may only touch His garment, I shall be whole." She saw that He dined with sinners and publicans, and this gave her boldness, not despair. You, too, have seen His mercy extended to the undeserving; let that memory fuel a quiet, confident faith like hers. Approach Him not with panic but with that same hidden touch of the soul.
Yet remember, the health of the body is not the whole health. When our Lord healed the man on the Sabbath, He pointed out that circumcision, which the Law commanded even on that day, brought only a partial healing, for it dealt with the flesh. But He made a man "whole," body and soul. Seek first that wholeness. The condition of your womb is known to Him, and He is able to move the placenta to its proper place, to quiet the fibroids, and to steady the blood against the ravages of diabetes. But if He should permit a trial instead, do not think yourself abandoned. How many who stand healthy today are cast down by a sudden fever tomorrow? And how many who lay sick have risen to greater strength? Neither the pregnant woman should presume upon a smooth delivery, nor should she despair when complications loom. The Lord lifts up the feeble knees.
In the houses of the martyrs, the poor and the maimed sit before the doors, not merely to beg alms but to instruct the passersby. When you see your own body troubled, let it instruct you. Pride in our own strength is a sickness worse than any fibroid. Your present need can purge that pride and teach you thankfulness for every small mercy. Instead of fixing your eyes entirely on the desired outcome, turn them also to the Giver. The grace of a healthy child is a gift; the grace to endure a difficult pregnancy with patience is no less a gift, and perhaps the greater one, for it fashions the soul for eternity.
The deacon cries out, "Holy things for the holy," and that awful cry searches the conscience. Are you preparing your soul through this trial as for a holy offering? The Forty Days of fasting are not meant to be a brief interruption of habitual sins, only to be followed by a return to negligence. So too, this season of waiting must not be merely a frantic bargaining for physical relief, but a sustained turning toward God. Do not limit your trust to the safe delivery of the child; trust Him for the salvation of your own soul, and then the health of your body will take its proper place, something to be received with gratitude if given, and to be endured with hope if delayed. He who clothes the lilies and feeds the sparrows will not neglect you. Lay hold of His garment. He will give what is best.