I’ve been delaying writing this post. No words can accurately communicate my new reality.
On September 11th, I turned 25. That morning, I stood in the bathroom expectantly watching little pink lines appear in the window of a home pregnancy test. The test line was clear – it had successfully registered. The second line, the important one, the one that means there’s a baby living inside of me, was pale and blurry. But it was there. I took a second test. Two lines again. Oh, baby. I’m pregnant.
I want to say that the moment I found out was the most exciting of my life. Truthfully, my emotions were like that second line on the test – blurry. I wanted to be pregnant. I have wanted this for a long time. I was relatively certain that the test would be positive, despite the numerous negative tests of the past when my body insisted on being unpredictable. But nothing prepares one for such news. No amount of hoping, waiting, expecting, could make me feel ready for this. My excitement and thankfulness were mixed with apprehension, caution, and a general inability to comprehend this new reality.
Blood tests, doctor’s appointments and an ultrasound later, I’m ready to share my new reality with the world. Today, my baby begins his or her ninth week. A week and a half ago, I saw a rapidly beating little heart on a screen. Hello, little one. Welcome to life. I hope I will be able to protect you.
It’s still so hard to comprehend. I watch videos and read all the information on baby websites. I deal with morning sickness and exhaustion every day. I make lists of names and research nursery decorations and try to eat all the right things. I can take a vitamin and a progesterone supplement and and give up caffeine, but I can’t make sure everything is OK. I feel frail and helpless, like my baby. We wait submissively to see what our future will hold.
You see, this is my second baby. I was not able to protect my first baby. I had her only five weeks. I talked to her and wrote her letters and prayed that she would live, but it wasn’t meant to be. In our bedroom, I have strips of ultrasound printouts. One of my first baby, at five weeks, a dark, indiscernible circle. One of this second baby at around the same age, looking much the same. And the newest printout, my baby at seven and half weeks. A little peanut in the circle. Or as some have said, a gerbil running in a wheel (it really does look like that).
I just knew that when I saw that heartbeat, everything would be fine. And for 20 minutes, everything was fine. Then I met with the doctor, and he told me my progesterone level had dropped a little low. It could be no problem, there’s no way of knowing. A supplement is recommended and might help. And I remembered that life comes with no guarantees. We’re doing everything we can. There will be plenty of things to be uncertain about throughout the process, and for the rest of our lives.
I like to think of myself as an optimistic realist. I brace for the worst, but choose to be thankful and content in all circumstances. Some circumstances make this much easier than others. But for now, all I can do is rejoice. I’m a mom. Our precious little one is getting all the help we can give. I’m thankful for our baby. And for the first one, who I will hold on the last day when God raises us all.
And so, dear blog followers, rejoice with me! And if you know God, please pray to him for my baby. I don’t understand exactly how prayer works, but Scripture promises that the prayer of faith has great power. All we can do is trust our Father who loves us.
Oh baby! Here’s a video animation of what our little one has been up to so far. What a miracle human life is!