I remember. . .

I remember. . .

I remember. . .when Chris and I had been married for one year. We decided we wanted to start a family. We didn’t tell but a handful of people because we wanted it to be a surprise when the day those two pink perfect lines showed up and also because we didn’t want the constant, “Well? Has it happened yet?” question every time we saw those that were closely following our baby-making journey. And we were young. We got married at 18.

I’m glad we didn’t tell many people. It took two so freakin’ long years to get pregnant. We went to fertility doctors and had tests run only to find out nothing was wrong. Good news, right? Wrong. They couldn’t give us a logical reason as to why it just wasn’t happening for us. We considered adoption, but at the age of 19, who would take you seriously? We knew that our plans to start a family would have to be put on hold and that was O-K because we were young. We had plenty of time. No need to rush things.

But. . . the hurt. The feeling of wanting a baby so bad burned deep down and neither of us could shake it. What was wrong with us?! We were 19 years old and wanted a baby?! Most 19 year olds are in college, not married, living it up. . . but living it up to me and Chris was being married, the excitement of knowing we were trying to start a family. We are goofy as hell, but we have always been mature for our age. Believe it or not we have a serious side too. We wanted things in life at a young age that most don’t even start thinking about until late twenties or early thirties.

To make a long story short, after fully putting the situation in God’s hands and stopping the constant obsession over all the ways to increase fertility, I was five days late. I wanted to take a test so bad, but I was scared. I was scared because I had been weeks late before and it wasn’t because there was a bun in the oven, it was because I stressed myself so much over wanting a baby I made myself late. But, I hadn’t stressed. I let it go to eight days late before taking a test.

I didn’t rush to the store. I went calmly, bought the cheapest they had instead of the most expensive thinking if I bought the right test it’d show me two lines. I wasn’t freaking out over anything this time. I was just keeping it simple. Chris was at work and had no idea I was even getting a test. No one did except for me.

I took the test and waited. I waited longer than the box said. I was shaking from nerves. Could this be it? Finally?

I sat there and stared at the two lines. I didn’t blink not once. I didn’t move for at least ten minutes. Then the tears started pouring with the insane giddy laughter. Next came the jumping up and down. I almost ran out of the house in just a t-shirt and panties to go give the news to Chris at his work because I was just so stinkin’ excited!
I got dressed, semi-brushed my hair ,but I didn’t care. I HAD to get there to tell him. My appearance didn’t matter. I pulled up to his work, ran in, found him in the back stocking the cooler. I had tears pouring down my face and wearing a huge smile. He was confused. He didn’t understand.

“Two lines. I-I’m. . . I’m pregnant, baby!”

Tears filled his eyes and spilled over as he hugged me, picked me up and spun me around. It was one of the most perfect moments I’ve shared with my husband.

Emily Grace was born on May 18, 2006, nine months later. On my birthday. =)

Moral of this story?

God is good. So good. He’s blessed us with two amazing daughters that I love so sincerely and so unconditionally. Patience is hard, but if we wait it’ll all work out no matter the situation. This journey taught me that.

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4 thoughts on “I remember. . .

  1. Wow. I had no idea that you’d struggled so much with getting pregnant. Brookelyn was an oops, the best oops ever! But with Cohen, I had to end up taking fertility meds. It’s such a long, sad road when you want more than anything to see those 2 lines every month, isn’t it? So happy for you though, that now you’ve got 2 sweet girls! And, on your birthday?! That’s amazing and crazy and totally awesome. (Brookelyn was born on my moms birthday.)

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