It didn't occur to me until a few months ago, but being due on June 4th is significant. I had planned on writing a post about it at some point, but I was cleaning out a notebook and found these words I jotted down quickly nearly a year ago (it would have been June 2nd or 3rd of 2015).
"My daughter turned three last week. My son will be 16 months old soon. Earlier this week, I took a pregnancy test and found out baby #3 is to be expected early next year. This wasn't entirely shocking, as my husband and I were planning for this one and I'd had an inkling it was time to take a test.
Yet I find myself feeling unprepared - three kids? I'm not ready. I don't have it all together yet. I still lean on timeouts and deal with tantrums. I still find myself overwhelmed by making dinner some nights. I have a million chances...I thought I would have it together by now.
We want five kids. Most of our friends have one or two kids, but we have some friends with four or five kids. We've always wanted a big family, but I get such mixed reactions when I say that.
As I have more kids, though, I'm finding that I'm worrying more, not less. What if she actually has leukemia and I have no idea? What if he gets into a horrible accident when he's a teenager? I don't lose any sleep over these things, but I'd be lying if I said the worst-case scenario didn't cross my mind occasionally.
It's daring, I think. Bold. Brave. To risk something heartbreaking, to risk a devastating loss. To step into a place of uncertainty, of instability, of the unknown.
Yet the rewards are so beautiful. The smiles, the giggles, hearing "mama" and seeing chubby little hands reaching for me. Having magic kisses that heal little hurts. Watching kids hug, share, love. Hearing the unprovoked "I love you, Mommy."
I may feel like I mess it up a million times a day, but I'm doing better than I think (I think). I need to do the best that I can today and every day."
We had just gotten back from Mexico on a Sunday night (I had been expecting my period on the last day of our trip, Saturday) and I bought a test on Monday night. I was giddy about the positive result. I had two full, blissful days before I started bleeding on the morning of June 4th. I know it was early, but for me it was still that devastating loss. It doesn't compare to what some of my close friends have been through, but it was one of the most heartbreaking things I've been through in my nearly 30 years.
I spent months trying to control every detail of life - months keeping everything in my own hands. I worked so hard to make things happen and nothing did.
When I finally gave up, I realized I really couldn't make anything happen. I couldn't. There were plenty of things in my life that I could do and control and say, but I couldn't make it happen. I just couldn't.
When I got tired of trying to control it, I gave it to God. I acknowledged that it wasn't in my power and I just let go.
Of course, that's when we found out about baby #3.
I can't believe I didn't make the June 4th connection right away, but I didn't (or if I did, I definitely forgot about it). Now I'm preparing to welcome another little bundle of joy into our family and our home and I feel so blessed. God hadn't forgotten about me, but I was sure He had. God had heard my prayers and knew every thought and desire and heartache that I'd ever experienced but I was sure He had no idea.
I still learn so much from these words I wrote before I knew what would happen. I still don't have it all together, but I find myself enjoying the ebbs and flows of parenthood and finding new ways to enjoy the crazy or silly. After all, for so long, I was so afraid I'd never again feel a little person moving around inside me, never again have the joy of sharing the news of a sibling, never again get to hold my own little newborn baby.
So when I felt funny one evening in September 2015 and noticed I was leaning on the jogging stroller during my run a little more than usual, I was anxious but apprehensive about taking a pregnancy test. I ended up taking it in the Meijer family restroom about two seconds after I bought it. The flush on the toilet scared the kids and they both screamed and I shoved the test back in the box before the two minutes was up. We headed back out to the car, where I got them buckled in and settled into the driver's seat. I took a deep breath and then took a look. My heart probably stopped, but I'm sure I couldn't wipe the grin off my face for the rest of the night. Despite being scared and worried, I was so full of hope.
I have this hope for the many friends I know who have been through similar loss. I hope they aren't afraid to risk it, despite the heartbreak that can certainly occur. I know my loss was early, but it just gave me a small glimpse into what many of my friends have experienced. My heart aches, that ache that you can't even put into words, for that type of sadness.
A friend (who has been through her share of loss and heartbreak and fear and has remained one of the strongest and most faithful and most hopeful people I know) shared this quote with me and it speaks to me for every friend who has felt this kind of grief. That baby is real.
The grief doesn't go away because of the logical things that may have been wrong. The love is there from the start, despite any of the other emotions.
All that to say that this baby is even more of a blessing because of the pain that I went through last summer. I felt abandoned and alone even though God hadn't left my side - I had simply convinced myself that He had left because I wasn't getting what I wanted when I wanted it. I have appreciated and enjoyed every kick and nudge because I was terrified I would never experience it again. I have carefully folded and gushed over all of the little bitty clothes because I was afraid it would make more sense to sell all of the baby stuff. I have thanked God repeatedly for answering my prayers, the ones spoken so desperately in the midst of my heartbreak.
He delivers. For always.
