old school sunday

This picture isn't necessarily a picture from our lives pre-Jude, but he was an itty bitty little thing nestled in my womb, so his impact on our lives was pretty minimal.

It's intriguing for me to think about the vast differences in where I am emotionally compared to where I was when this picture was taken. We'd been trying for awhile to conceive Jude, and I was so excited to tell Shawn that I just about peed my pants (little did I know that pregnancy will do that to a girl).

This pregnancy has been a much different experience. Up until the day I had the first inkling of some funny business in my uterus, I was spouting off about wanting to wait until Jude was four or five years old to try again, and even considering adoption of an older child in a few years. While getting pregnant with Jude consumed my efforts, getting pregnant this time around was the very last thing on my mind. Until one Monday in early December, that is.

I was at work and had made a bag on popcorn to have for lunch before a meeting. You know how the smell of popcorn can permeate an entire building and linger for hours? Well after I finished the popcorn, I went outside for a minute. When I came back inside, I got one whiff of the popcorn and thought, "Shew. Our office smells like poop." When I realized a few seconds later that I was confusing the scent of popcorn, my heart dropped like lead.

You see, the very first sign of pregnancy for me with Jude was confusing scents - except it was coffee then. When we made coffee, I sniffed throughout the house, sure our dog had pooped somewhere. And as gross as it is, when our dog did poop in the house, I thought, "Mmmm....who made coffee?!" Pregnancy seems to be the only time my nose goes all wonky, so I took note at the popcorn incident.

The clincher of it all happened the next morning when I woke up. Having a slight cold, I blew my nose...(sorry this is gross) and I ended up with a small nosebleed. For some reason, your membranes can swell in pregnancy - so nosebleeds and even small amounts of your gums bleeding aren't uncommon. "No," I thought. "That's not blood. And my nose isn't wonky. And I'm not pregnant."

That afternoon, I took a pregnancy test. I was still about a week away from expecting my period, so I knew taking a test wouldn't be conclusive. After about ten minutes though, the test turned a faint positive. The same thing happened in my pregnancy with Jude. When I saw that faint pink line almost two years ago, I scrutinized it under every light, thinking, "please let that be a line, please let that be a line!" I did the same scrutinizing this time, only I was thinking, "No way is that a line. No. Way. Can that be a line." Throughout the course of the day, I took another two tests (because I'm a freak like that), and each time that line got slightly more dark.

I waited until after we'd put Jude down for the night to tell Shawn - only because I knew this was a conversation that shouldn't be interrupted. After I rocked Jude to sleep, I came out to the living room to find Shawn working at the kitchen table. I sat down across from him, and fidgeted nervously.

"You okay?" Shawn asked. In the five seconds it took me to answer, I went through about twenty different ways to phrase what I was thinking. "I need to tell you something," I answered, and before I had a chance to chicken out, I blurted, "I think I might be pregnant. I'm not 100% positive, but I've taken several tests, and they've all been faint positives, exactly like the tests I took early on with Jude."

I had NO idea how Shawn would react, so I watched his face closely and will never forget what I saw. He raised his eyebrows and blew out his cheeks. "Well..." he sighed, and nodded his head slowly as the information sunk in. Seeing that he wasn't going to freak out, and perhaps taking a step outside of myself to realize the absurdity of the situation, I chuckled and said, "Surpriiiise!"

Shawn laughed one of those hearty laughs that's born from almost disbelief, opened up his arms, and said, "Come here." In that moment, Shawn was exactly what I needed. I had spent the day beyond freaked out - paralyzed to do anything but cry. The financial and emotional fears were overwhelming me, and my controlling, planning, budgeting self melted down in a pit of helplessness. In that moment, I knew that it was okay for me to be weak because Shawn would be strong.

After letting me blubber through everything I was thinking and feeling, Shawn very calmly said, "I'm kind of excited, honey." He told me that just that day, he'd been listening to a sermon about what a blessing children are. He reassured me that we'd be okay, that God had never failed to provide for us, and this was a cause for celebration. It took almost two weeks for my heart to celebrate, but I'm genuinely excited about this baby. I'm so grateful for Shawn's consistent faith in God's provision, for his strength in my weakness, for his humble joy at the life I'm carrying.

This sweet child is coming to us in completely different circumstances than we'd planned, but there's no denying this pregnancy has God's handwriting all over it. And really - how can you not be excited by that?