We were done. Finished. The oven was closed. We had exactly the life I wanted. My three amazing kids were home with me. The boys are older and homeschooling well. They’re pretty independent and Liv! Liv is out of the baby stage. No diapers, she’s unbelievably independent. My cake business is growing, I’m loving it. Life was good. Life was full. Life was complete. My family was complete.
Then God moved.
I won’t go into great detail, but I will say that we were preventing pregnancy medically. This had been working beautifully for 4 years. No scares, no issues, just beautiful, non-pregnant life. Until it didn’t work. I was a week late (sorry for the TMI) but I was sure it was just my age and stress level so I took a pregnancy test, knowing it would be negative.
The first test came back positive so quickly that I was quite sure it was faulty. That second test though, had me in tears. There was no joy in it for me. I was overwhelmed. I told my husband, who was shocked yet joyful. I couldn’t find the joy.
We told the kids, they were over the moon with happiness! Excitement and anticipation flowed freely from them. I was joyless.
We told our family. They were thrilled, albeit shocked, they were happy for us. Still, I was joyless.
We told the world (Thanks Brenda Anderson Photography and Facebook!) we received countless congratulations and loving words. It was beautiful and wonderful and all those things, yet I was still joyless.
I bought a couple cloth diapers and we tossed around baby names. Trying to be excited. Trying to allow myself to be happy about this pregnancy. I felt the need to explain over and over that “this baby wasn’t planned” “we were done” “I shouldn’t be pregnant!” It’s like I needed everyone to know that this pregnancy was a mistake.
And then I realized, right before I began writing this, that this pregnancy isn’t a mistake, this BABY is a blessing. All of my babies brought me joy, I loved all of my pregnancies. I was excited and thrilled and joyful but for some reason, this pregnancy felt like I had done something wrong. Maybe it’s a need to explain why on earth anyone would have four children on purpose? I certainly didn’t plan on it, but God has better plans than ours. He is God, I am not. He wanted me to have this baby so badly that he let every single thing we were doing to prevent it fail. He has a plan for this little bird, and that plan deserves my joy. This is going to be another little soul that I’ll get to nurse in the middle of the night. That I’ll get to rock to sleep and that I’ll get to raise to love the merciful God who gave this baby to me.
So I’m done explaining our accident. I’m done telling about our mistake. I’ll tell you that I’m pregnant with a beautiful baby that I cannot wait to hold. I’m forgiving myself this week of shock and grief and I’m embracing my crazy, unscripted life.
I’ve started a little box in my closet with all the beautiful things I gather for this baby, I’m going to love filling it up!
We can’t wait to meet you little bird.