Full Circle: When Redemption Arrived Wrapped in a Newborn

Finding Life in the Midst of Loss

I’ll never forget the moment I found out I was pregnant with my second child. I should have felt pure joy, but instead, fear hit me like a wave. My doctor told me I would most likely need another C-section, and all the memories from my first birth: the fear, the trauma, the feeling that my body had failed me rushed back. I wondered if I could even do this again.

And then, just as I was learning about this new life, my father passed. Suddenly, I was carrying grief I didn’t know I could survive. I had to make arrangements with the funeral home, see his lifeless body, and navigate emotions I couldn’t even name. Walking into that room and seeing him lying there, so still, I felt like my chest might break. I was navigating grief and new life at the same time, and it felt impossible. And yet, even in that heaviness, I felt God whisper: “There is joy in the mourning.”

Pregnancy is already intense, but this was next-level. Fear tried to take over. Doubt crept in: “Your body won’t know what to do. You can’t do this.” And yet, I kept praying. I prayed that I could experience the divine design of my body, that God would carry me when I couldn’t. That He would redeem this birth but also bring healing and redemption to the parts of me that had long felt broken.

I did everything I could to prepare, even with nausea ruling my days. I read my Bible, journaled my prayers, leaned into God’s promises, read birth books, and worked with a prenatal doula. But there were nights when I whispered to God, “I don’t know if I can do this.” And in those moments, He reminded me, “I am with you.”

When labor came, it was sudden and intense. Fear tried to sneak back in, but the moment they placed my son on my chest, it all melted away. The feel of his tiny body, his warm skin, his first breath, I was in awe. I couldn’t believe my body had done exactly what it was created to do; God had carried me through. I whispered through tears, “Thank you, God.”

When I first found out my due date, I knew right away what time of year it fell on. It was around a trauma anniversary that had carried so much pain for thirty years. I remember sitting there in silence, hand on my belly, realizing this wasn’t a coincidence. Deep down, I knew God was doing something redemptive. It felt like His gentle way of saying, “This time will no longer be marked by pain. I’m making it new.”

And sure enough, just days before that anniversary, my son was born. What had always been a season of heaviness became a season of life. It was a full-circle moment I’ll never forget, a divine exchange where sorrow turned into joy, just like God promised.

Through all of this, I finally understood redemption. Before that day, I didn’t really know what it meant. I’d heard the word, but it felt distant, abstract, something for someone else’s life. But I could see it, feel it, touch it now. Redemption is when God takes what’s broken and gives it new meaning. It’s when fear turns into peace, pain into purpose, and old wounds become reminders of His grace. It’s the assurance that He can rewrite a story you thought was lost forever. I saw it with my own eyes that day, it wasn’t just a word anymore.

Redemption is when God takes what’s broken and gives it new meaning.

God’s hand was in every detail, the timing, the birth, the healing of my heart, and even redeeming a date that had held me captive for decades. “He gives beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” (Isaiah 61:3). Even in the middle of sorrow, I was reminded: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).

If you’re reading this and carrying grief, fear, or a story that feels too heavy to bear, know this: God is at work, even when it doesn’t look like it. Redemption can show up in ways you never expect, often through ordinary moments that feel extraordinary only in hindsight. Waiting is hard, but His timing is perfect, and His hands are capable of breathing sorrow into something breathtaking.

Take a moment now and reflect: is there a part of your story you’ve been holding onto, too afraid to surrender? What would it look like to offer it to God and trust Him to redeem it? One day, you may look back and realize that even in your darkest moments, He was planting seeds of life, love, and restoration, just as He did for me.