So I have been a bit preoccupied lately.
"With what?" you say.
Well, besides a job, a husband, a rambunctious toddler, and a house to attempt to care for, I am also blissfully pregnant. Yeah, I know you knew that already (and if not, sorry, I wasn't trying to keep it a secret from anyone any longer), but what you may not know is how our "story" dictates how I approach this little life growing.
You see, when C and I got married we purposely decided that we wanted to get to know each other for a year before we got pregnant. In my mind as soon as that year was up we were going to magically become pregnant. That waiting year passed... and another... and another. We were devastated; the one think I knew I wanted to be, a mom, was being denied. Those two years and another 10 months were filled with a lot of learning, tests, conversations, and learning to trust God would do what He said He would do. I would have completely lost hope had God not given me to my best friend and helped me to use C's faith where mine was wavering. I think C was concerned not about whether we would be parents but how I would weather the storm of trying to get there.
Anyway, I was convinced that we were going to have to do something more involved like an IUI but hoping not for an IVF (for those who don't know what those are I hope you never HAVE to know what they are). I went through the medicines my doc prescribed more to get them out of the way before we moved on. I had received calls for months saying it literally was impossible that month to be pregnant. Then Mid February 2009 the nurse called and I knew I was going to be late to work due to crying... I was but not due to sad tears. She said its possible, I went to our local doc's office took a test and called C to come home. Poor guy, he thought he was going to have to help me through another "impossible" call. You know the end to that story, we moved (for many reasons) and although 3.5 weeks early Bubby arrived and life has been wonderful.
When Bubby was three months old we started trying for a sibling. It didn't happen. Went back to the doc to start the same regime that worked to get pregnant with Bubby. It didn't work. We doubled the time I took the medicine. It worked. For 5 wonderful days we knew I was pregnant. Then probably the saddest days of my life so far happened. We have a little one that will wait in heaven for us to meet her (just a gut feeling here).
And I thought trying and failing to have children was hard, trying and losing is harder.
We took some time, re-anchored ourselves (really me) in trusting God. And I was really surprised when I felt a peace to go back to the doctor to ask for assistance. Even more surprised when C said yes too. I returned armed with more information and questions and started on a new regime, fully expecting it to take months again. Imagine my surprise when just a month after I started I felt like I needed to test. We found out at the beginning of December that we were pregnant. Bliss and fear gripped my heart. That first week was terrible. I am pretty sure I didn't get a thing done at work or at home. Then we passed the point where we experienced our loss. The fear didn't go away. It took more days and conversations with C before I finally sat down and had a heart to heart with God. You see, perfect love casts out fear, I wasn't living in the love of God, I was growing a new life that God has a plan and destiny for, I was growing an amazing miraculous gift from our loving Father and not living in His love. After some tears, repenting, and quiet listening I felt peace in my heart. The following week we saw our little gummy bear's heart beating so we told our family on Christmas day that we were expecting. Four weeks later gummy bear was waving his/her arms at us and wiggling all over so we started telling our friends. Then we came up to the end of January. Our Maybaby's due date was January 26th. I was not looking forward to that day. On the 23rd, I felt a little flutter, then later in the day I felt it again, I tried to dismiss it. On the 24th I felt it again and there was no denying I was physically aware of my little August baby. The morning of the 26th I felt a sadness that I didn't dislike but I didn't enjoy either, how else is a person supposed to celebrate someone who is now gone. That day I felt Bear moving more than either day before and more than the days since. I am sure that was God's mercy.
In all the research I have done, which just barely scratches the surface of what there is to know, I have learned that every child is truly a miracle. Not only are there rigidly strict parameters for conception to occur but there are rigidly strict parameters for eggs to mature and be released and for sperm to develop into baby making material. Then there are the formative weeks where the slightest thing being off kilter can mean the life of your unborn child much less everything else that could go wrong. Then there is labor, granted true emergencies are rare but they do exist.
So, I am a bit preoccupied with the life growing inside me, with those little flutters that reassure me Bear is growing, with the fact that there is a call of this little one's life already. And I am a bit preoccupied with God talking to me about this little life, about what Bear is called to do and be and how Bear and Bubby will be together.
