Eight Words That Changed Our Lives

By Grace Harris

If you had asked me years ago which promise of God I clung to, I honestly don’t know that I would have had an answer. There was a season when I wasn’t clinging to His promises at all—I was wrestling with Him.

After our son, Wesley, was born, my husband, Nate, and I knew we wanted nothing more than to grow our family and give him siblings. You can imagine our excitement when we found out we were expecting triplet girls. We had already chosen their names—Willow, Magnolia, and Wren. But in my second trimester, we lost all three of them.

The grief was unlike anything I had ever experienced. We weren’t sure we would ever have more children, but we continued to hope. Then came four more miscarriages.

With each loss, hope became harder to hold onto. My prayers became questions, and my questions often became silence. I loved God, but I struggled to understand why He would allow so much heartbreak.

Eventually, we decided we would try one last time. If this pregnancy didn’t work, we would accept that our family might look different than we had dreamed.

Then came Hazel.

Week after week passed. Sixteen weeks. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe again. We had made it further than before, and I believed the hardest part was finally behind us.

Then everything changed.

I was referred to UNC Maternal-Fetal Medicine. We walked into that appointment expecting reassurance.

Instead, the doctor said, “You have what’s called a uterine arteriovenous malformation.”

Eight words that changed our lives forever.

We learned the condition was extremely rare and life-threatening. The doctors believed neither Hazel nor I would survive beyond twenty weeks. Once again, we left an appointment preparing for the loss of another daughter.

I remember repeating the same words over and over: This doesn’t feel right.

Even in my fear, God was already at work. He surrounded me with people who prayed over us, encouraged us, and continually pointed us back to Him when we couldn’t see beyond the next appointment.

At seventeen weeks, I was scheduled for a procedure to block the blood flow to the AVM. It was considered my only chance of survival, but it would almost certainly cost Hazel her life.

As I lay prepared for surgery, I asked the interventional radiologist one question.

“Will you at least check to see if Hazel survives afterward?”

Her answer stopped me in my tracks.

“I won’t perform this surgery unless you agree to terminate the pregnancy afterward.”

In that moment, everything became clear.

I knew this wasn’t God’s plan for us.

Nate and I told the medical team we would not move forward with the surgery under those circumstances, and we would not end our daughter’s life. Physician after physician came into the room urging us to reconsider. We were only in our twenties, standing against every medical recommendation.

But we weren’t standing there alone.

God gave us a courage that wasn’t our own.

From that point on, there was no treatment plan. We lived week by week, day by day, trusting God with every appointment and every unknown. The doctors were genuinely afraid for us, but beneath all the uncertainty, I had an unexplainable peace that God was still writing our story.

As the pregnancy progressed, the AVM continued growing until it became the largest uterine AVM measured during pregnancy. Humanly speaking, everything pointed toward tragedy.

At thirty-three weeks, Hazel was delivered by cesarean section, and I was immediately taken into a seven-hour surgery. We had been told there was only about a fifteen percent chance I would survive.

But God.

By His grace, Hazel was born safely.

By His grace, I survived.

Our journey wasn’t over. Hazel spent twenty-nine days in the NICU, and six weeks later I underwent a hysterectomy. Recovery was long, but through every hospital room, every surgery, and every setback, God never left us.

What was meant to end in tragedy became a testimony of His faithfulness.

Today, our story is helping shape care for women who may face this diagnosis in the future.

Specialists at UNC have begun research because of my case, which was later presented at Harvard Grand Rounds. One physician even told me our journey changed how she approaches pregnancies like mine. Where there was once only one option, there is now hope for another path.

Only God could write a story like that.

The promise I cling to today is simple: God always keeps His promises.

That doesn’t mean life unfolds the way I want it to. His promises are not guarantees of an easy life or freedom from suffering. His covenant promise is something even greater—His presence. He promises to never leave us or forsake us, and I have found that to be true in every season.

His faithfulness has changed the way I live.

It has taught me to obey even when obedience is costly, to trust when I cannot see the outcome, and to love others with compassion because I know what it feels like to be carried through impossible seasons by God’s people.

Long before any of this happened, we chose the name Hazel.

Only later did we learn it means “God sees me.”

Now, every time I say her name, I remember that He truly did.

He saw me in my grief.

He saw me through every loss.

He saw me in the hospital rooms.

He saw me when fear threatened to overwhelm my faith.

He saw me when I couldn’t see the road ahead.

And He faithfully kept His covenant—not by sparing me from every trial, but by never leaving me in the middle of them.

The God who made a covenant with His people is still the God who keeps the covenant today.

He is, and always will be, our Promise Keeper.

Grace Harris

Hi, I'm Grace Harris. I am a stay-at-home mom, a follower of Christ, and someone who believes God can give you light even in the darkest valleys of life. Motherhood has taught me so much about grace, perseverance, and leaning on Jesus through every high and low. I am passionate about encouraging women who are walking through difficult seasons, reminding them they are not alone and that God is always faithful, even when life feels uncertain. I love sharing my heart through writing and honest conversations, hoping to point others toward hope, healing, and the peace that can only be found in Christ. It is such an honor to share my story with Sisterhood Magazine. My prayer is that every woman who reads it feels seen, encouraged, and reminded that, no matter what she is facing, there is hope and that Christ is the light who will guide her through every valley. 

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