Between miscarrying once & too many negative signs, I disregarded my frequent emotional episodes & my body demanding naps. We weren't planning on a baby but our fingers were crossed. If we were suppose to have a baby now, then we would. Some call it ignorance. I call it faith.
McKay was working late & I had one unused test left. Two days prior it told us no. I decided to test again anyway but expecting the same sign I had grown to be friendly with.
Nonetheless, I placed it face down on the edge of the bathtub with angst. I put away the laundry, slowly.
I sat next to the test. Looking on the opposite direction, I flipped it over.
With a quick glance, it read positive.
I cried. Whether it was out of complete fear or joy, I still cried. A lot.
Now, our tiny person is 9 weeks & I have never loved a gummy-bear sized baby so much. Realizing the risk of being public during the first trimester, we love this baby whether she is here to stay or not. With the constant reminder that I am now responsible for another human being, I am trying to be better. My work out music has shifted for fear that our child will know of lil' wayne too soon & I am trying to eat more greens. We're grateful that our Heavenly Father is trusting us with this baby. I am longing to snuggle this addition to our family & kiss her cheeks, & tiny toes. I'm okay with giving up all of my sleep, late night ice cream runs & heavy spending for cheerios all over the kitchen floor & dirty diapers. We feel so blessed.