There are all sorts of phases in life. There’s the finding yourself years, which take up most of high school and college. Then comes the wedding years—where every other weekend you’re jetting off to witness friends’ nuptials. Currently, we are in the baby years—the ones where we, and the majority of our married friends, are having, or are trying to have, babies.

These days, social media paints an enticing portrait of the baby years. The excitement of dreaming up the perfect way to announce your family’s new addition nearly comes second to the excitement of dreaming of who this new child will become.

But for many, there is pain behind the pretty pictures that fill your newsfeed.

It took my husband and I nearly a year to get pregnant with our first, we had a Down syndrome and congenital heart defect diagnosis with our second child and a miscarriage with our third pregnancy.

We know that our story pales in comparison to what others in our lives have gone through: sequential miscarriages, years of infertility, failed adoptions, still births and the list goes on.

Building a family has been by far the most worthwhile, but also the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Having children makes you greatly aware that there are very few guarantees in this life.

There’s no guarantee that our bodies will be able to produce children on our own, or that once a child gets here, that he or she will be healthy. And there’s no guarantee that after seeing two highly anticipated pink lines on a pregnancy test, that your child will be able to take her first breath.

So, for those of us who have experienced heartache in building our families, how do we move forward when we know our family is not yet complete?

For me, I find rest knowing that God already knows the members of our earthly family.

I remember getting ready to leave the hospital with our firstborn, when I looked at my mom with tears in my eyes and said, “This is the child we were meant to have.” And although, it took us a while to embrace our son’s diagnosis, I can say with absolute certainty that he is the child we were meant to have.

I don’t believe that God caused our second daughter to have a condition incompatible with life, but I do believe he intimately knows our next child who we will have the privilege of raising here on earth.

I don’t believe God causes our pain when trying build a family. Instead, when the pain of this fallen world inevitably comes, He takes it and weaves it into His grand story and uses it for our good.

I know Him to bring good out of situations that seemed hopeless. Although there are few assurances in this life, this is where my hope grows.

Whether it’s through adoption or through a biological child, I believe God knows the members of our family, of your family. And in this, we can go forward with not only hope, but with confidence.