I distinctly remember the day I found out we were expecting baby #2. I found the cutest flowered top. Black with baby blue flowers, which on reflection is the biggest foreshadowing I could have recognized.
Sunday afternoons are for doing nothing, in my opinion. I am not a overachiever and after wrangling a toddler into his nice jeans and shirt for church and reminding my husband every two minutes that we are late for Sunday School at our local church, its a given in our family that I deserved an afternoon of rest. This is a typical example of my Sunday though, I love seeing all the happy faces of parents who are just as tired as I am but glad to have made it to church to hear Pastor Steve’s encouraging message. Its one hour a week where I can drop my child off without any guilt in the church nursery and make my way to a seat with the rest of my clan and shake hands of people who are just as worn out as I am but just as happy to be around each other. I thrive on that energy some days. Sundays are the days for being thankful and reflection. Not days in which you find out important news. A monday? Fine, tell me then. Wednesday? Yeah, that works. But not my Sundays. Its the day of REST!
Anyway, back to my cute shirt. I opened my mail order package and pulled out my latest online find. It fell smoothly in waves down my arms and to my pajama pants (because I can’t relax in jeans on a Sunday, its illegal). Except for my lower stomach, it looked perfect. My eyes settled on the rounded bump that indicated I ate too much. Ugh seriously? Sucking it in was not going to make that go away. The wheels started to turn as I switched back to a pajama top. Hmm, surely not. My oldest son ran into the room and started to fling dirty laundry out of the basket in order to play his favorite game of throwing things into a laundry basket. I watched him fling the new top into the dirty pile. Nah, there is no way. But, surely it wouldn’t hurt to check. Five minutes later the strip on the test was the faintest second line I had ever seen. A SECOND LINE? I immediately dismissed the idea. It was too faint to really see. But wait, didn’t my friend have a very faint line with her first baby? Oh she did. OH NO. Thats not right surely. My son came running into the bathroom, suddenly aware that I had left him alone (also illegal). I scooped him up and stared at the test on the bathroom counter (Yes, I washed my hands. No woman can pee on a pregnancy test and not their hand). And cry/laughed for a good 30 minutes. The weirdest noise you ever heard. Giggles one second and high pitched sobbing the next second. Its something hormones can only generate. After my dogs joined me in the bathroom as I sat perched on the edge of the bathtub, I realized it was time to move. Get out of the house and do something. I dressed at the speed of lightening, leaving the button unbuttoned on my jeans (hey I was allowed to now that I was pregnant), and hurriedly piled my son in the carseat. It was too dangerous to stay at home by myself where thoughts reigned supreme. So much for a restful afternoon. I needed backup.
I hunted down my husband at the new house we just started to remodel. Literally, demo was only just finished. He was measuring the open lot next to our house for cattle pens. I pulled up, determined not to tell him quite yet. That lasted two minutes. After about 30 seconds of sitting in the truck talking about his initial blueprint of the pens, I pulled out the test and handed it to him. I was too shocked to think of a clever way to tell him. He looked at the test and looked me in the eye with surprise on his face.
“Why did you hand me a negative pregnancy test?” He innocently asked me, genuinely confused as to why I would do such a thing.
I totally could have smacked his forehead and told him he needed a V8.
“Honey, a faint line is still a positive.” I explained slowly so I wouldn’t bust at his lack of knowledge of pregnancy tests.
“Yea maybe, but theres no line.” He held it up to the sun and reexamined it.
“Nothing there.” He announced, ready to reassure me that it was all in my head.
“Take another one tomorrow and we”ll find out for sure. Get the digital kind that says yes or no. Its just easier.”
“I don’t have one here so I’d have to go to town. Ill do it later.”
“I’ll get you one tonight.” We turned to the subject of cattle and never looked back. He dropped me off at the house and I drove home to fix dinner and put our son to bed. 11:30 came around and I ignored the niggling question in my mind. My husband prances in and plops a box of Clearblue Digital Pregnancy Tests on the bed I was comfortably settled in.
“Take one tomorrow and let me know.” He smiled and went to shower and catch some leftover dinner. I stared at the box, afraid to touch it and said a prayer. A prayer that if I was pregnant, God would guide me. A prayer that if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be too disappointed. The idea of another baby began to warm my heart already.
Next morning, I stumbled into the bathroom and remembered the test. I scuttled back to our room and snatched the box off the floor where I left it the night before, as if it might burn me the second I touched it.
A couple minutes later the test said exactly what I felt in my heart. Baby number two was cooking. My husband took the news well, better than I thought he would. Remodeling a new house and moving with a toddler was hard enough. He laughed and said he was excited. We estimated the due date to be about two years from our first sons birthdate. What a good age difference we both said. He said he would pray for a healthy baby and I said I would too.
“Don’t worry honey, I’m excited. I think we”ll be just fine. I”ll just give up my office when the little one gets here. They can have their own room and your car is plenty big enough for two little kids. Plus everything went well with Rowan. Theres no reason things won’t go just as well as the first time.” He gave me the sweetest little pep talk as I started to freak out over the phone.
Little did we know how different this pregnancy would be from our first.