As you may already know, if you’ve read
this post – my husband and I tried for a total of three years to get pregnant. After a year of trying, we went through ‘infertility’ testing. After a year of trying with no success, you are given the label of infertile. I had a nice enough doctor, but she never connected with me on an emotional level, which you would expect considering the difficulty and depression that comes with being unable to conceive. Deep in our hearts, we knew we weren’t infertile but we were offered no answers and no hope. After a lot of uncomfortable tests with no reasons as to why we weren’t conceiving, we decided to stop the testing. That doctor, to this day, has never followed up with us to see why we stopped coming, how we are or anything. We continued trying on our own with no success, but ultimately decided to stop trying to conceive towards the end of 2012. I had worked through a lot of my emotions and decided that if we never had kids, it would be okay and that the Lord had something else in store for us. I decided to go back to college, which was something I had always wanted to do. Everything was going to be okay.
In the beginning of 2013, my husband had to move to Pennsylvania for work for a few months. He left for PA in January and he got to come home once that month. Now I have to say, I am one lucky girl in the period department. My periods are like clockwork every month. I have never had a late period or even long ones, my longest was about 3 and a half days. No excruciating cramps, nothing. So when February came around, I stocked up on tampons and waited for the 9th to roll around. When the 9th came and went, I thought it was weird that I hadn’t started yet but didn’t think anything of it because I was feeling kind of crampy and I figured it was just being difficult and would come any day. On the 11th and 12th though, I thought I was dying. I kept having these weird pains that would start out dull and get severe and then go away like they never happened. It would start on one side of me and stretch to the other. I thought I was dying. When I called my husband and told him what I was feeling, he suggested I get a pregnancy test. That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Me: “I’m not pregnant, Ryan. I’m either dying or I have cancer or something has burst inside of me and I’m slowly bleeding internally.” (I might have a slight case of hypochondria.)
Ryan: “Seriously, just get a test that way you can at least rule it out.”
Me: “Fine, but considering we only did it one time last month - there’s no way I’m pregnant.”
On Valentine’s Day (the 14th), my friend Kylie and I were driving around after our Valentine’s date and chatting. I casually brought up that I may need to get a pregnancy test, but I was pretty sure I was just dying and there was nothing to be concerned over. She gave me this look like, “You’re going to make me go with you…aren’t you?” So to CVS we went. We both casually walked to the pregnancy test aisle and I picked out a box that came with two tests. I didn’t bother with the early detection tests because at that point I was already 5 days late. We walked up to the register and of course it’ was a guy cashier. I laid them on the counter and he looks down and back up to me and said, “Isn’t this usually something you buy as a result of Valentine’s Day?” “Yep,” I said laughing “but evidently not in my case. I’m married.” Because I guess I wanted this guy to know I was legit and not a floozy. Kylie’s face at this point is bright red with laughter/embarrassment for me.
We get back to Kylie’s house and I texted my husband to let him know I got the tests. Because I was leaving the next day after work to drive to PA to spend the weekend with him, he wanted me to wait to take the tests so he could be with me when we found out either way. Sweet right? No. I couldn’t sleep at all Thursday night, could not concentrate at work the whole day on Friday and could barely get my bag packed because I couldn’t focus on what I was doing. “What if I’m pregnant? What are the odds that after 3 years, it would only take one time?” was all I could keep thinking about. I had dinner with my parents before I left for PA and they were over the moon excited at the possibility. I just kept telling them I wasn’t pregnant and not to get their hopes up because I wasn’t.
I started the drive to PA after dinner and got a phone call from Ryan that he got called to work. He said he would be home the next day and we could take the tests then. I made it to our friends, where Ryan was staying. It was pure torture knowing I had to wait yet another day to find out for sure. My friend and I took advantage of having no husband’s home on Saturday by going shopping the entire day. Even with her welcome distraction, I couldn’t get babies off of my mind. We got back to her house that afternoon and started prepping for dinner. I wasn’t sure when Ryan would be home, so I was holding my pee. I didn’t want to waste a good pee if he was going to be getting back soon. That’s when time started going by very slowly and I realized his train must be late, because his phone was still set to voicemail. Finally around 10 o’clock, he came through the door. He barely had time to set his stuff down and I was pulling him up the stairs, red solo cup in hand.
I peed in the cup, dipped the stick in for however many seconds the directions said, put the lid back on it and sat it down on the counter. I covered it up because I knew I couldn’t keep myself from peeking before the two minute wait time was up. Ryan paced the bathroom; I sat on the edge of the tub shaking my knee up and down uncontrollably. His pacing made me nervous, and about what was probably only 30 seconds into waiting I asked if it had been two minutes yet. Those two minutes felt like an eternity. Finally we decided it had to have been two minutes (we both couldn’t focus enough to actually keep track) and lifted the cover off the test. Two lines.
The conversation, as well as I can remember, goes something like this…
Ryan: “What does that mean? I can’t read those things.”
Me: (eyes like a deer in headlights) “We’re pregnant.”
Ryan: (with a huge grin) “Oh wow, really? I told you that you weren’t dying”
Me: “Look at the paper again, maybe I read it wrong.”
Ryan: “Babe we are pregnant.”
Me: “Oh my gosh, can we do this?”
Ryan: “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
We hugged for a long time as the news sank in with the both of us. I cried tears of joy and fear and excitement and utter disbelief. Ryan just kept smiling, and I did too - because for a little bit we knew something that no one else in the world knew. We finally made our way back downstairs where our friends were waiting in full anticipation and we told them the news. I texted my friend Kylie, who had been waiting to find out since I made her go buy the tests with me. I called my parents and then we called his parents and we texted all of the sisters. The next morning I woke up bright and early and took the second test, just to be sure. The two lines showed immediately. No two minute waiting time needed. I remember thinking, “I must be very pregnant.”
So here we are at 22 weeks pregnant and I almost still can’t believe it sometimes. I am over joyed and feel so blessed to be carrying this little miracle around with me every day. Ryan got to feel little Evan kick a few nights ago and the happiness I felt over seeing his face light up is like nothing I can describe. The Lord’s timing is so perfect and I hope if there is anyone reading this now that is struggling to get pregnant, please trust in that.
And I am living proof that our parents were right all those years ago when they gave us ‘the talk’ – it only takes one time!!
