I was one day late on my period. Only one day, but it was enough to send my mind spiraling.
We were at an indoor playground with my sister and mom (who happened to be in town visiting) and I noticed how sore my boobs felt. Silently, I took out my phone and began counting backwards to the last day I remember being on my period. Any other time in my pregnancies, I could have told you the exact date of my last period, but I promised to give myself a physical and mental break until Berklee’s second birthday. I told my mom and my sister how I felt and I saw that look glaze their faces. You know, that “Oh no, please don’t take another test and face the disappointment” look. They didn’t mean it harshly by any means at all, they just wanted to protect me from another heartbreak. I promised them I would wait another week, and if my little red friend didn’t show her ugly face, I would take a pregnancy test.
On our way home from the playground, Berklee fell asleep in the car and I remembered I was out of diapers. I had my mom stay in the car with Berklee while she slept and I snuck into the grocery store. I walked past the aisle I swore I wouldn’t walk down, and something pulled me back. I bought the diapers, a pregnancy test and I walked straight to the Safeway bathroom. I kept reassuring myself that if it said no, I would be fine! I told myself we were waiting a few more months to really start trying again anyways, I would not let this defeat me. The Lord’s plan is greater than my own.
And then I saw the two little pink lines. Bold and undeniable, they were there. I started crying, then shaking and then a sudden calm washed over me. I packed up the test, washed my hands, and walked to the car, convincing myself that no one needed to know. I wouldn’t tell a soul, I would protect everyone I loved from another miscarriage heartbreak. I could do it.
I opened the car door, looked at my mom and sleeping babe and the tears began to flood. I didn’t have to say a word. My mom saw my face, and she knew. We cried and hugged and then as if a warrior in combat, I turned it all off. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it anymore and I wanted to leave it alone.
I told my husband casually the next day as he was walking out the door for work. I literally said “By the way I’m pregnant, and I don’t want to talk about it. okay?” Gosh, I was so harsh. I took that glory from God and I squashed it as I let my fear be greater than my faith. But y’all, I was just so terrified. After losing two sweet babies over the past year, finding out I was pregnant just lost it’s spark. A moment that was once filled with joy, was now consumed with anxiety.
My husband’s eyes welled up and he hugged me, but he understood, and we barely discussed it the next 3 weeks as we waited for our first ultrasound.
The day of our first appointment came, and I was a ball of nerves. My husband prayed over me all morning and again before going into the exam room. I remember sitting on the table before the ultrasound and my legs just wouldn’t stop shaking. I had lost complete control over my body.
I closed my eyes and waited to hear the doctor before I opened them. “We have a good sized baby with a strong heartbeat.” Was this real life? Everything looked…normal? I started sobbing, Austin began to tear up, our medical assistant even started crying as we passed tissues around the room.
I left the doctor’s office that day on cloud nine, we hadn’t even told our families yet! We couldn’t wipe the silly grin off our faces that day and I felt compelled to talk to God right then and there. Who was I to have questioned his plan for our life? Who was I to steal his glory and joy when I allowed Satan to let fear run rampant through my heart? I thought ignoring what was happening with my body would somehow make things easier. #LiesSatanTellsUs
I was so disappointed in myself, but the lesson I learned was life changing. Never again would I let my fear be greater than my joy.
These photos were taken right after our 8 week appointment with Shea Brie Photography.
(Part 2 Coming Soon)