I have had many people ask me: "how'd you keep it a secret for so long!?" Well, the truth is, we didn't know for so long! We didn't find out until I was nearly 15 weeks. This was no 4 month kept secret! The other question I have received a good bit, as have members of our family, is: "if you/they have been trying for 4 years wouldn't it be pretty obvious when it happened?" and "how did you NOT know!?"
[Now, full honesty here, that's been hard for me a couple of times because it's difficult for me to not take it personally and feel like people are thinking, "hello! you're pregnant. you know how this work.....it's your own body, for goodness sake." In moments of struggle I've feared that people might think we weren't truly hoping for this like we've said and that we were simply in denial. But, in His patient grace, my sweet Jesus has helped me grow a thicker skin and a more truth-filled mind through receiving these questions/comments and realize that a. I need to stop assuming and putting fully formed ideas into people's minds that may never have existed there in the first place. And b. once we have the opportunity to share the story it's met with, "Oh! I understand. That makes so much sense." Oh, even in this the Lord is faithfully putting to death that fear of man that resides in me! He uses it all.]
If you've followed our story than you know that I've shared before that my body is on the unpredictable side when it comes to those delightful monthly cycles. I've never been regular, not once in my life. I'm very influenced by stress, good or bad, and that has brought with it countless times of pushing my cycle a couple weeks, skipping a month, or even two. The other factor that is a piece of us is that my doctor is 95% sure I don't ovulate regularly, but more like 6 to 8 times a year, and with no clear cut "when" those times are. So, the whole planning things has looked a bit different in our lives. || I will share more about how these factors played into our infertility journey in another post || But the knowledge of those facts is an important piece to know with baby boy's story.
April, May, and June were three of the busiest, if not THE busiest, months we've ever had. We moved into our house, I hosted showers, my little sister moved in with us, we were putting the last touches on her wedding, we had visitors in and out and then straight from the end of May to the end of June, and two very important and dear weddings. We were on full throttle every day for 3 months. And as much as it was all joyful beautiful things, all of which we were so thankful for, it was still a type of stress. Thus, the fact that I skipped my cycle in May was not a surprise. Honestly, it was what we expected. Neither was my level of exhaustion -- we hadn't stopped since moving on April 1st -- exhaustion was a fact of life at that point!
As we entered into June, J and I had a conversation about skipping my cycle, but we both agreed that there was nothing out of our ordinary that would cause us to think we needed to take a test. As far as my body goes, we were trudging through typical waters. I wasn't sick at all either and I had been so intensely sick with AK that my lack of nausea or sickness of any kind made us all the more assured of the fact that nothing was going on. After the crazy settled down, I'd start. After all, that's what I always had done.
The very end of June came and it was the last couple days of Momma Coobs visit. At that point I was now in process of having fully skipped my June cycle, too. That's when the tears started to come. I would say to J how much I wished my body was different -- these unknowns, these rollercoasters were so hard to handle. I was weary. Once this cycle started, we decided, it would be the time to delve further into the medical aspect of all of this. The emotions weren't helped when I became more discouraged by the weight I had gained during the stressful months. This was easily answered by the fact that I hadn't eaten well or exercised consistently in 3 months. Finally, on one of the very last days of June, J said, "Babe, we need to know. We need to take a test. We need to be able to move forward, trusting the Lord, and then we can begin taking steps into what's best for the next season." He was right. As much as having to bear the effects of another negative pregnancy test would be so painful, we needed to know. Our hearts needed to move forward.
So, J picked up a pregnancy test a couple of days later, the kind that said "pregnant" or "not pregnant" because we didn't need any of those confusing lines. The next morning he came into the bedroom where I was still laying quietly in bed, dreading what I was about to have to do, and he sat down next to me and asked, "are you okay? are you ready to take it?" "I'm scared," was my reply. He looked at me with those always comforting blue eyes of his, "I know, I am too," he said. "But we will walk through this together. I'll go get AK settled downstairs and then I'll be back." He left the room and I slowly got up and made my way to the bathroom. I took the test, set it on the counter, and walked out of the room without the smallest glance back. When J came back I was sitting on the edge of the back. He sat down quietly next to me and just started to pray. When he finished we hugged, he kissed my forehead, and then gently asked, "Do you want me to go look?" Every other time I always had wanted him to. I couldn't ever bear seeing the words. This time, though, I said, "no, I'll go. I just need to start moving forward."
My legs felt so heavy and my heart was quite literally in my stomach as I walked toward the room. I was so positive I knew exactly what that test would say, that I would immediately drop it in the trash and turn to walk back into J's arms and just let the tears fall. "Here we go......Lord, please help me," were the last thoughts that crossed my mind.
Then I walked in the bathroom, picked up the test, and my eyes fell on the word that I had prayed to see again for 4 long years........