Week 12. Prayer

Week 12

I've spent every night, in secret, alone on my knees praying to a God I gave up on a long time ago.
I've never given up the act of prayer, despite my continuous denial of faith and insistence that 'I'm not religious'. I've prayed for Adam to stay safe every time I have to leave him. I've prayed for guidance and I've prayed to clear my mind when there was no one else to say it to without sounding bloody crazy. But this week has been...different.

It's been years since I knelt down and bowed my head over joined hands and really prayed with fervour. I've asked my lack of dedication to be overlooked and my continuous renouncement of faith to be forgiven. I wont change, if God is all knowing then he knows this. He knows in my heart I'll never be sure, I'll never willingly step into a life of servitude, I wont follow the law to the letter, I wont even believe my heaven is with him, because it's not, that's not where I want to be when I die. But my God knows all this, he knows me well enough by now I am sure. And he knows how much this means to me, and what a sacrifice it is for me to kneel down like I'm nine again and pray at the side of my bed.

Please let my baby be ok. Let everything be fine.

I have prayed because I don't know what else I can do. I don't smoke, I haven't drank alcohol since we started trying to conceive, I've never taken drugs, I haven't eaten badly, I haven't strained myself. I've done everything right, and it still might not be enough. So I have prayed. I have prayed not knowing if anyone is listening, but I've prayed all the same.