how quickly things can change

Where to begin!

The beginning, I suppose.

So Phil left on Sunday, November 1, after two unsuccessful attempts on both Friday and Saturday. It was nice to have him stay an extra day-ish, but my nerves were about to snap under the pressure of saying goodbye...3 times.

But lets back up a squich. Saturday the 31st Phil was home and we were able to catch up on a lot of things together, one of them being a pregnancy test that we thought was needed. I was feeling sick, hadn't started my period, and what the heck, why not? So I made him pick it out while I dropped 5 cans of soup in our grocery basket for my sick stomach.

I was nervous but honestly I didn't think I was pregnant. I had a lot going on, lots of stress with him deploying, and probably just had a bug or something. So I take the test...twice! And they were the line kind: one line means not preggers, two lines means uh-oh. I watched it develop like a polaroid picture from yester-year and one line was definitely dark, but faintly, like a shadow, was a second line. What did this mean? Asked Phil; "Take the other one," was his response. I did and same thing. What a conundrum - two lines but one much more accentuated than the other. His consensus? "You're not pregnant. Woohoo!"

So he left on Sunday and I was still feeling cruddy and started thinking about the idea of being pregnant. "I mean maybe, I could be, but then again..." or, "I'm sure it's just..." and so on. I called my mom and she said to go get blood work done, and on Monday morning I marched myself into the walk-in clinic to request, ever-so-quietly, "Yes, um, I would like to take, the ah, pregnancy test...?" I was waiting to get in trouble or have the receptionist say I wasn't allowed.

I went and got blood, all the while telling myself I'm not and to not get excited, and proceeded to my regularly scheduled allergy appointment. Went home and waited for three hours to pass so I could call the lab to get my results.

I called Amy to spazz out and have her talk me down, since obviously I wasn't pregnant and I needed to stop entertaining the thought. "Ok gotta go," I told her around noon, "I'm going to call now. Wish me luck."

Five minutes later, she picks up:
"Are you pregnant?"
"Yep."
"WHAT??"

And so begins my journey as a momma-to-be. They told me I was 4-6 weeks pregnant and I scheduled my intake appointment for the OB/GYN. I had to tell people just so that I wouldn't explode, so I emailed and called a few particulars, but it was killing me that I couldn't call Phil. I didn't want to tell my family until Thanksgiving for a fun surprise, but I just needed to tell Phil.

Well, and thank Jesus for this one, he called that night and I read him an email from Baby Sommerville:

I know that you and Mommy didn't think I was here, but unfortunately you're not so good at reading pregnancy tests. Mommy went to the doctor on Monday, Nov. 2 because she just couldn't shake the feeling that I was here, and sure enough the doctors told her I was permanently residing in her belly!

Maybe I'm a boy...maybe I'm a girl...but I'm yours and I'm so happy you're my Daddy.

Afterwards, it was silent on the phone and then, quietly and in a high-pitch voice, "We're pregnant? We're going to have a little baby?"

He teared up and I asked if he was excited to which he replied, "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be we're going to have a little baby!" So much was taken off my shoulders to hear those two sentences.

So Phil and I are going to be parents and I feel so privileged and blessed that God chose us to bring a life into this world. I honestly have no idea when we conceived or how, and really, I think conception is an utter miracle to begin with, so He wanted us pregnant. And to think how hard and closed off our hearts were previously to having children and how He melted us. I'm SO excited to bring a little boy or girl into this world. I'm overwhelmed and bewildered by the logistics of things (how often do you need to bathe infants? will it know how much to eat automatically? how many blankets do you put on a baby when it sleeps?), and I feel totally inadequate to teach it about Jesus' love or be a good example of what that looks like, and yet, here we are.

I got a book yesterday in the mail that had actual photographs of babies in the womb at different weeks throughout pregnancy and the youngest one was 11 weeks. Man you could see the eyes, see its little spine, the arms and legs...incredible. And I got furious; furious that any woman could think that murdering that precious daughter was somehow more convenient or advanced the cause of womanhood. I saw my baby's blood pulsing through its body on an ultrasound: a 7 week, size-of-my-fingernail baby with blood circulating like a camera flash through its forming limbs and organs. Don't tell me that isn't life; don't tell me that it's just cells; don't tell me your excuses. It's life, beautiful and perfectly created by God.

Sidenote, but relevant.

My mom is coming on Saturday to stay for ten days, and she doesn't know yet since I told her the blood test was negative, but soon Dad and her will know when they get a package containing a onesie that says, "Can't wait to meet you Grandma and Grandpa! See you June 24!" I put on the package they had to open it together and they had to do it on Skype so I could see them. It's been the hardest thing to tell everyone but my MOM and have her ask about decorating my second bedroom in the apartment when all I want to say is, "We have to decorate it with animals and polka dots and soft things!" Longest two days of mailing time, ever.

This post is getting to the ridiculously long category, and I have so many more thoughts and emotions and responses to my peanut in my belly, but this will do. What a wonder, what a miracle, what an honor.

Thank you, Father God, for giving us this gift.

Holy crap. I'm going to be a momma.