"Hmmm...so what does the plus sign mean again," I think to myself as I am staring down at the stick. That was on February 27th...and I am probably just as confused now! :) In January Nick and I decided that I should go off the birth control pill. I always had the belief that for us, a baby and a Master's program couldn't mix. Although Nick probably would have liked for us to have gotten pregnant on our honeymoon (coming up on six years ago), I knew it was so very important for him to be able to focus everything he had on his degree. I knew that meant delaying a family- and I was completely fine with that. In fact, when we first got married I swore up and down that I didn't want kids at all.
So, I go off the pill and don't really give it a second thought. I knew it could take six months, a year, or way longer to conceive, so it wasn't something that was in the forefront of my mind at all. One day in February I told my friend at church that I wasn't feeling great and told her a few of my symptoms- she told me to take a pregnancy test. I knew there was absolutely no way I was pregnant. No way! Nick and I talked about it and he thought we should just be sure. The next day, I took the test below. As the plus sign appeared (what felt like instantly) I literally sat there in complete disbelief. Nick came up to tell me he was leaving to get the pizza he had ordered and I just pointed at the test. He was equally as shocked. Here is the thing, the test was from a long time ago and it was past the expiration date (I know it's weird that these things have expiration dates, but they do). So, this was my loophole, surely the expired test was wrong.
So we ran to Walmart and purchased two more tests. Second test came out the same. I don't even really think Nick and I knew what to say to each other the rest of the night. In the morning I called my doctors office and made an appointment for that Thursday. I went in and they confirmed I was pregnant, but we had no data to go on for a due date. They scheduled me for an ultra sound an entire week later. That week was the longest week of my life, to know I was indeed pregnant, but to have no clue a due date or how far along I might be, was torture.
So I went in on Thursday just praying that I was far enough along that they could see something. I completely underestimated the impact of that visit. The fact that on the monitor I could see this tiny little blurb that was my baby...and to see the heartbeat. Oh how I cried. She measured me at 7 weeks and 3 days at that point, which gave us a due date of October 22nd. My mind raced....well, is still racing.
We've told almost everyone by now and it's been such an outpouring of support. I compare being pregnant to having your birthday every single day- everybody is happy to see you, they want to know how you are feeling, they want to know what you want to eat, if they can do anything for you, they want to buy you little presents- it's pretty wonderful I am not going to lie.
I am pretty sure we conceived on our first try (um, too much information???) while in my mind, this was going to take a very long time. I had plans and a timeline. Sometimes I think God giggles at me. When I think about the blessing growing inside of me (at 8 weeks baby is the size of a raspberry) I am overcome with awe for creation. The fact that God designed my body to do this- that truly I don't have to do too much and the baby just grows and forms. It's such a miracle really. And so the journey begins....