Bright and early I woke up and snuck into the bathroom. Broke into the wrapper on one of those fancy 4 day early pregnancy tests (it was only 2 days early) and amid many butterflies awaited the results. But I sort of already knew… negative.
After our first try week I was pretty excited and totally obsessed with the idea that I was expecting. 3 times (1 miscarriage and 2 healthy babies) I was pregnant on the first chance. I know logically that those results are not to be counted on, but apparently my heart didn’t get the message and I was sure sure SURE that it was going to happen just as it always had. The 2 week wait before you can test is kind of torturous, and I kept feeling “symptoms”, One day I fell asleep 3 times and had insomnia and had to wake frequently to use the washroom and had terrible headaches. Whoa. What else could it be?! (turns out that was the same week I gave up caffeine… withdrawal much.)
2 dollar store tests taken much too early and then that fancier test taken 2 days early gave me the news I was both dreading and shocked to hear. All the sudden new possibilities entered my brain… what if we couldn’t? I mean, there are no promises with Jon’s surgery and it’s been 5 years for me, who knows what has changed… again… I do know logically that our first negative does not mean that we won’t be able to have another baby. It’s just one month. I KNOW. But the fears still creep in a little anyway. Because really, we don’t know what God has in store for our family. We feel He led us in this direction, but that doesn’t mean we are guaranteed another baby. That morning I sat through a funeral (wonderful reminder of who controls life and death), and then in the afternoon I got to cuddle some cute new babies (wonderful therapy).
I went to bed that night still disappointed but thankful for the peace that settled throughout the course of the day.
One surprising discovery for me was that somehow the fact that I had always gotten pregnant on the first try had become a little piece of my identity. (I find the complexities of our woman hearts and identities quite hard to fathom.) I never would have known that until I didn’t- and then suddenly I realized that perhaps I had even been proud of our fertility. Which strikes me as weird and pretty rotten and ridiculous actually, and I don’t like admitting it to be honest. I’m always moaning about parents who have easy going kids taking it for granted that they have something to do with their easy kids, but apparently somewhere in my heart I had kind of done the same with my easy to come by pregnancies. Just another lesson that ALL IS GRACE.