My blog has
been noticeably quiet the last several weeks.
And for good reason. Because this
is what has been on my mind:
Ohmygoodness I’m pregnant! Ohmygoodness
I’m pregnant! Ohmygoodness I’m
pregnant! Ohmygoodness I’m pregnant! Ohmygoodness
I’m pregnant! Ohmygoodness I’m
pregnant! Ohmygoodness I’m
pregnant!Ohmygoodness I’m pregnant! Ohmygoodness
I’m pregnant! Ohmygoodness I’m
pregnant! Ohmygoodness I’m pregnant!
Ohmygoodness I’m pregnant!
And let’s
face it, that’s not interesting reading for anyone.
Though Jay
and I decided to keep the pregnancy quiet until we made it to the second
trimester, I couldn’t even carry on a conversation with someone without fearing
that the news might explode out of my mouth.
After all, it’s news I’ve been dreaming of sharing for 14 years.
14 years. I was 20 years old when my husband and I
looked at each other and said, “Let’s make a baby.” I thank God all the time that things never
worked out the way we’d hoped or else we’d never have decided to build our
family through adoption, and we wouldn’t have our first miracle – our Micah. He is worth every moment of pain, worth every
single tear.
But fast
forward several years, and we felt that old familiar nagging in our hearts
again. As Micah got older, the more I felt
a longing to have another baby and to give him a sibling (even though he really
didn’t want one!), but as the years progressed, the less I believed it would
ever really happen.
Last year we
decided to seek some assistance(not for the first time) and give it one more
good try before we sailed into old age.
I kept my hopes low, made a lot of sarcastic comments, and made sure my
glass stayed half empty. Sometimes it’s
easier to guard your heart against disappointment.
Something changed for me one month
though. We were four months into the
process, and I was sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for longer than
usual as my doc finished up with another patient. I was looking at the calendar on the wall and
realized that my next appointment would logically be scheduled for the
following Tuesday, when we were supposed to be in Branson on a family
vacation. I knew from experience that it
was a hassle to have to reschedule an appointment, so I whispered a quick
prayer that my appointment would be scheduled for that Thursday instead since
we’d be home by then. And then I sat and
waited some more. My phone was several
feet away in my purse and I wasn’t willing to jump up in my oh-so-flattering
paper gown to get it, so I just closed my eyes and sang in my head. A few praise songs came to mind, and before I
knew it, I was just having me a little Jesus time right there in the
office. For some reason, my cynicism
kind of fell away, and I mouthed these words, “Jesus, please let me know you’re
still in this with us.”
As I continued to sit and wait for
the doc to come in for my exam, I prayed a very specific prayer. My ultrasounds always seemed to reveal the
same thing – a less than impressive almost-mature egg. So I
decided to pray for a really good already-mature egg.
And since I still had to sit there for 15 more minutes, I went ahead and
prayed for two eggs.
When my doctor came in, she did my
exam (aren’t you glad I spare SOME details?) and said, “Well, girl, you have
two beautiful eggs* this month.” And
just because my God is so good, she added, “I will see you next Thursday.”
I continued this throughout the
month, praying specifically for certain blood tests and hormone levels, and
each and every time, God came through. I
remember telling Jay (because I’m a pessimist), “I don’t think it’s going to
work this month, but I love this feeling that God is on our side.”
Well, it just so happened that the
day for my pregnancy test fell on March 27th, my 34th
birthday. My senior group at church had
thrown me a surprise birthday party that day, and I was sitting with them,
calling BINGO when the call came. I
missed it. My always-chipper nurse
(seriously, she gives bad news in such an upbeat way that it doesn’t occur to
you to be sad) left a message to call her back.
I did and left her a message. She
called me again while I was visiting with someone bringing me a birthday
gift. She left a message to call her
again and have her paged.
I shut my office door, took a deep
breath, and called. She said simply,
“Would you like some good news for your birthday?”
I couldn’t believe it. I knelt right down on my office floor and
cried out to my God, who does things in His perfect time. I was bursting with joy that day… and since
really. (Okay, so I’ve also had days of
pretty terrible sickness and shocking exhaustion, but still… joy!).
Truthfully, I’m still quite nervous
about things going smoothly these next six months. And I sometimes get so overwhelmed about
starting all over after 8 years that you’d almost forget I actually prayed for
this to happen!
But when I hear the thundering sound
of that miraculous heartbeat, or hear Micah talk about how he gets to boss the
baby around because he’s older, or daydream with Jay about what this little one
might look like, I pause and praise God that He heard my prayer, and long after
I’d given up real hope, He reminded me that He is Lord of my life.
*Not to worry – two beautiful eggs
will NOT be resulting in two beautiful babies!
