I have had babies, so I've had ultrasounds and am very thankful

Hear, O child of tomorrow, the words of Lisa Kennedy Montgomery, who spoke with gratitude: “I have had babies, so I’ve had ultrasounds and am very thankful for them.” This saying, though spoken in plain tones, is filled with depth and reverence. It reminds us that even the simplest tools of life, those often taken for granted, carry within them the power to preserve, protect, and give peace to the human heart. To be thankful for ultrasounds is to recognize not only the gift of modern science, but the eternal wonder of life itself.

The origin of this utterance lies in the journey of motherhood, in the waiting months when new life stirs within the womb. In ages past, women bore children with only faith and intuition to guide them, never able to see the mysteries forming inside. But in this age, the veil is parted by sound waves, and the hidden child is revealed to the mother’s eyes. Thus, the ultrasound becomes more than a machine—it becomes a window into creation, a bridge between the seen and the unseen, and a source of reassurance that the precious life within is safe and growing.

Consider the story of Queen Anne of England, who endured countless miscarriages and lost many children in infancy. In her day, no physician could look within to assure her of her child’s health, no instrument could calm her fears. She bore the weight of uncertainty until it crushed her spirit. How different might her story have been had she lived in an age where such knowledge was granted, where a mother could behold her unborn child’s heart beating strong! Kennedy’s gratitude echoes against the backdrop of such histories, showing us how far humanity has come in its care for mothers and children.

To be thankful for them is also to see the intertwining of divine wonder and human progress. For though the child is crafted by the hand of the Almighty, it is through the wisdom granted to humankind that mothers may glimpse the miracle early, and doctors may act when danger threatens. In this way, faith and knowledge are not enemies but companions, each uplifting the sacredness of life. Gratitude, therefore, is not merely for the machine, but for the harmony of wisdom and love that it represents.

The lesson here is profound: never take lightly the instruments and gifts that protect life. Just as the warrior honors his shield, and the farmer treasures his plow, so too should we honor the tools that safeguard mothers and children. To dismiss them as ordinary is to forget the centuries of struggle when such help did not exist. Gratitude transforms the everyday into the sacred, and it reminds us that even the quiet hum of a machine may be the song of mercy.

Therefore, O listener, cultivate a spirit of thankfulness for the hidden guardians of your own life. Think of the medicines, the technologies, the teachings, and the people whose labor spares you from suffering you may never see. Speak thanks not only for the grand victories, but for the silent protections that surround you. In doing so, you will train your soul to recognize that blessings are not always clothed in glory—they are often hidden in the ordinary, waiting for the eyes of gratitude to uncover them.

So let the words of Lisa Kennedy Montgomery endure: thankfulness is not bound only to the great and visible things, but also to the small mercies that guard the most precious parts of life. Carry this wisdom, and you will walk with deeper reverence for the world around you. For every heartbeat you glimpse, every tool that preserves life, every unseen hand that steadies your path—these are gifts, and to be thankful for them is to live in harmony with the eternal truth.