Jeff lay sprawled out on our bed, breathing deeply and soundly. Jak is in his room, and I tiptoe around the bedroom into the hallway so as not to wake him.
My heart beats fast because I don't know what the next few minutes will bring.
I am nervous. Excited. Impatient.
My cycles were normal up to this point. Now I'm late. I have to take this test, this test that I've put out of my mind for over a week because I couldn't believe that we could be at this point already. I scramble around for it in the drawer, again trying not to wake my boys. I do not want Jeff to know until I know. I can't believe I've even kept it from him thus far.
I pee. I sit. I wait. I watch.
Oh my gosh, what are we going to do?! I smile at the wall, now knowing that there is another life inside of me, knowing that my inkling has become a reality, knowing that God has blessed us again without us even asking. Then, the tears come.
Am I really doing this? I am crying because I'm pregnant? What is wrong with me? I have dreamed all my life for these moments, moments in the stillness knowing that I am going to be a Mother. I can't believe I am crying!
These are not tears of joy. They are tears of fear.
What are we going to do? We aren't even sure where we are going to live, what Jeff is going to do with his job, what our goals are for next year! I haven't lost weight yet, I still want to get healthier before another baby.
And yet, I am excited in the midst of the fear tears.
I hear Jak stirring in the next room. Still in shock, I glance at the test and hide it away before Jeff sees it. I have to figure out how I'm going to tell him.
Jak is up, talking away, ready for me to greet him.
I leave the shade closed, the light off. I pick him up, my sweet, smiling boy. Mmm, you smell so good. Ok, I can do this again. He smiles at me. I whisper to him that he is going to be a big brother. The first to know after me. He smiles again. I hold him tight. My sweet baby boy.
We begin our routine: down the stairs and into the kitchen for milk, then into his seat for breakfast. I wander around aimlessly. It is over half an hour before I actually get him something to eat. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. This thought consumes me.
7:36 am I call my friend. I tell her through the fear tears, and she reassures me that God has ordained this moment, and He is in control. All I need to know is that there is a baby being created in my womb. He'll work out the details of all of my questions.
Jeff comes downstairs, greets us and sits for breakfast. I am quiet. Too quiet, I think, but he doesn't notice. Maybe he just thinks that I'm tired.
Still uncertain of how I will tell him, I decide that I will wait until Sunday to tell him, once he is back from his trip. That will give me a few days to let it sink in, and come up with a thoughtful way to share the news. I can do this. I can wait. And if I wait, then I can also pray that he'll be delighted and not scared like me. I can pray for God to prepare his heart in these next few days.
10ish am I am pregnant. I am pregnant. I am pregnant. It's the only thought running through my head. I smile and nod when spoken to, and I offer Jak some toys so that I don't look completely out of it in front of Jeff. I must not tell him yet. What if he's upset? Not ready? Afraid of the uncertainty surrounding us, like I am?
He speaks of his upcoming trip and asks me a question. Silence. He asks again. "What, honey?, I say." He asks again. "I'm pregnant."
I stand and wait. He looks at me from his seat, glances at my belly, looks up at me again and smiles one of the biggest smiles I've ever seen. He jumps from his seat, takes 2 steps to where I am, and says, "Really?!" "Yes."
He takes me quickly in his arms and gives me a tight hug. I cry. I am relieved. I am overwhelmed. I am elated. The fear tears are gone and have been replaced with tears of pure joy, because we are having another child, because my husband is exactly the man that I need, exactly the man that I want. We are blessed. I am blessed.
I ask him my questions. I tell him my fears. He assures me that everything will be fine, it will all work out. I believe him. I trust him. I am so happy that I couldn't hold it in, because his reaction was exactly what I needed, and God knew that. He had prepared Jeff's heart before I could even pray about it, but He also prepared mine, if only I'd have stopped fretting.
"Trust Me, Kelly. Trust Me.", He echoed in my soul.
My sweet baby boy is 4 months old today. It was 1 year ago today that I found out he was coming.
"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song." -Psalm 28:7