Positive

February 23, 2017

At our little Safeway, for whatever reason, they keep the pregnancy tests locked up behind the customer service counter. I was standing in line, waiting while my groceries were being bagged, pleading with Ezra it sit down, telling Uriah every seven seconds to not touch that (whatever that was) and I could see them across the aisle staring at me, all locked up, like they wanted out and were just begging for me to come free them. But... Was it worth the extra stop? My kids were so ready to go and I already put my card away... Plus I feel so stupid having to ask permission to by a pregnancy test, I mean, what is that about? Would I be back to Safeway before Monday, the day I should actually be taking a pregnancy test because today is still far too early... Ah, but they're right there... So you know me and my lack of will power - I bought the damn test. As the lady handed it over she gave me a semi-skeptical raised eyebrow smile and said, "best of luck".

The pregnancy test was the first thing I unloaded onto the counter. And then I stared it, as my kids took off their shoes and settled into playing, I just stood there staring at it. Don't take the test, Allison. Wait until Monday. Sunday, even! Hell, even just tomorrow when Stephen is home, you promised the next time you peed on a stick he could be there! It's going to be negative. It's too early. You're going to be disappointed. Don't take the test. I had convinced myself enough to walk away and unload all the groceries. Then I opened the box and read the instructions (like I hadn't done this before, insert eye roll). Allison, don't take the test! It's going to be negative and you're going to be sad and it's going to be a waste. Just wait! So I made the kids lunch. But then I found myself there in the kitchen, kids occupied, with nothing to do and an open pregnancy test box and all of a sudden, I had to pee.

The negative line immediately started to fill in, nice and dark. I actually laughed out loud at myself. Why do I have to be so impatient?! I got myself cleaned up and took another peak. Definitely negative. Except, wait... If I tilt it just so... Could that be...? No. I set the test back down, shaking, and walked away to check on the kids. I stood in the kitchen watching the time tick by on the microwave. I'll just wait three minutes and check again. I'm sure that was just my imagination... two minutes... With one minute left (because I have no self control!) I went back in the bathroom and picked up the test.

It was there. It was faint, but it was there. Positive. I clasped my hand over my mouth, the tears freely falling and I fell to my knees, gripping the test with my head resting against the counter and found myself whispering, "thank you Lord, thank you Lord, thank you Lord!"

In June, 2016, when Ezra, Uriah and I went to the coast with my mom for a week, we were walking along the beach, splashing in puddles, when it hit me like a ton of bricks: I'm ready for number three. Uriah was running around, screaming and laughing out of pure joy, and I was walking with Ezra's hand wrapped around my finger and an empty Ergo baby carrier on my back and I felt, like the moment I saw Stephen for the first time, that there should be a baby in that carrier. I was ready. This baby was wanted.

But we had plans to travel to Hawaii in August and June was just too early to start trying. I didn't want to be sick on our honeymoon trip and a March baby meant living in our little two bedroom apartment with three kiddos for almost a year and a half. I was ready, but life wasn't.

When we got home from Hawaii I found myself wanting to talk about it all the time. When? When? When!? Poor Stephen... But a  June baby meant it would be born the month before Stephen left for Africa for six weeks and neither of us liked that scenario. That ruled out July and August, too. And since my babies have a tendency to come early, maybe even September wasn't the best option. And then there were residency interviews to think about that fall, I didn't want Stephen to be off on one of those when the baby was due. There were so many potential road blocks and "what ifs" standing in our way.

This is when it started to consume my thoughts. I was ready. I had been ready! And it just kept getting pushed back. My heart was breaking. I found myself complaining to God, like the timing and situations were His fault. I have been blessed with the fact that my timing and God's timing always seem to line up somehow. He makes me wait, but only just so. How was it that what I wanted was so clearly not right for our family at that time? How was our timing so off?

Finally, I got my IUD taken out at the end of December. I took ovulation tests for the rest of the month, trying to figure out my cycle. I hadn't had a period since before Uriah was born so I had no idea what to expect while trying to conceive this time around. I started my period in January and was so eager to figure it out and start trying, honestly expecting to get pregnant right away, as we did with Uriah and Ezra (literally, right away!) Right around the time I suspected I'd be ovulating, I started cramping. I took it as a good sign, an ovulation sign, and completely read in to every symptom following - tender breasts, nauseous, tired... I cramped for four days before calling the doctor and for over a week before they convinced me to come in. I had every pregnancy symptom in the book and would be lying if I said I wasn't hoping they'd get a positive pregnancy test back from the blood work. Ovarian cysts, it turns out, produce all the same symptoms as pregnancy, and my ovaries were full of them. There was no baby. I treated myself to lunch at Chick-fil-A and went home and cried. I had a big glass of wine with dinner that night.

I started my period five days later and felt defeated by the length of the months. I felt like I had no room to complain because some women try for years and technically, it had been one month, one measly little month, but I had been waiting for seven. I was ready.

I started cramping on the 13th of February and almost lost it with anger and sadness - surely it was the cysts acting up again, it felt the same as it did last month. But after a day and a half, it stopped. Huh. My week continued on as normal until the 21st. Up until this point I genuinely didn't think I was pregnant. I was holding out hope, yes, so much hope, but just thought it couldn't be possible. With Uriah and Ezra I showed several pregnancy symptoms and I showed them very early on. Surely, if I was pregnant, something would have tipped me off by now.

That evening, I started to feel uneasy. I was hungry, but what I ate didn't quite settle right. I wanted to sit down, but found myself so antsy when I did. My heart was racing and I just felt, off. The next morning I started to feel the same way again, sitting in bible study. I thought maybe I had low blood sugar, and that's why my hands were visibly shaking, but I ate something and it didn't go away. I stood up, but immediately wanted to sit back down. I was tired, but my mind was racing. I got in the car to leave and called Stephen who was home with the kiddos. I couldn't stop myself from crying, telling him I felt like I was having a panic attack. I settled myself down enough to drive home, eager for the chance to eat some of the bacon he said he had been cooking. I walked in the door and the smell of lunch was upsetting. I ate it, but didn't feel well after. I wanted to lay down, but I couldn't stop fidgeting. The thought of it all being pregnancy symptoms crossed my mind, and I even brought it up to Stephen, but what unusual symptoms! I had never felt this way with either prior pregnancies, so while there was still that little ray of hope, I started to convince myself that I was just so worked up about wanting to be pregnant, waiting to take a test, that the stress was starting to wear on me. I didn't sleep a wink that night.

And then we went to Safeway the next morning and my impatient, lack of self control lead me to my knees in our bathroom, crying and praising the Lord over a positive pregnancy test five days before my missed period. POSITIVE! It's actually positive! And I am sitting here typing this on my living room floor with a smile plastered to my face, laughing out loud...! It's POSITIVE!

- - - - - -

That night, I was itching with excitement to tell Stephen! I felt awful that I didn't wait until he was home to take the test - he wasn't there when I took Uriah's or Ezra's and he made me promise he could be there this time around - I just assumed it would be negative! I had somehow managed not to tell the kids, my sister, my mom or my friend Nicki throughout the day - I was bursting at the seems!

Stephen made it home just before I put the kiddos down and just after I had thought to hide the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. I had no idea when or how I would tell him and almost just blurted it out when he walked in the door, but I thought I should come up with something a little more personal or romantic or at the very least, ask him how his day was first ;)

We put the kids to bed and as he got changed and settled in, I got everything ready for Ice Cream Thursday. We sat on the bed before turning on our show and digging in to our ice cream and talked about Stephen's day. I still had no idea when or how to tell him and at this point, felt bad he'd been home for so long and I still hadn't said anything! Just before turning on our show I said 'hold on' and left for the kitchen like I'd forgotten something. I came back with a full jar of pickles (something I had only just thought of and probably wasn't the best or most creative way of telling my husband we're going to have a baby!) and held it out to Stephen, "Want some pickles with that ice cream?!" He looked at the jar, at me, at the ice cream and I could tell he genuinely had no idea what I was getting at. "Um, no...? Do you?!" I just stood there with this giddy smile on my face, holding out the jar of pickles repeating "pickles and ice cream...!" I could see the moment it clicked show up on his face, as he set down the pint, "Wait, what..? How was your day?! Are you serious?!" It didn't take long until I was up in his arms and we were both laughing, smiling and tearing up together. A baby! Another baby! He had been so excited about being there when I actually peed on the stick and found out, that we pulled the second test out of the box so he could watch it turn positive. Sure enough! A baby! Another baby!

I promised he could be there for the next one ;)

Baby Wall, we have been praying for you! May God lead us through these next nine months with patience, grace and peace and may He protect you as you grow. We love you and cannot wait to meet you!