It's Thursday evening and I'm excited to be home. I'm always excited to come home. My kids are especially playful and momma has a smile on her face so I'm on cloud 9. We're all downstairs playing and having a great time. There's extra levity in the air and it's turning into a memory I would remember regardless of the bombshell or not... but oh was there a bombshell.
Babe gets my attention and says she has something for me and pulls out a wrapped box. It's not my birthday, Christmas, anniversary (yes I remember our anniversary), nor any other occasion I can remember and we aren't really the couple that surprise each other with gifts, so obviously I'm curious. (Rach has a video of this but she won't show it because of something I say right when I open it, which is a funny anecdote.) To paint the scene we're in our bedroom downstairs, I've just tickled the twins like crazy and jumped around the bed making a mess of the bedding but it's all in good fun. We're catching our breath and momma hands me the gift. I'm surprised and intrigued but can't really remember what I thought it might have been, but I can say that I wasn't expecting what it actually was.
I unwrap the gift and see a thermometer, well what I thought was one at first (and I think I touched it before realizing what it was) but only a second or two later I realize what it really is. I quickly look up at Rachel (without reading the result) and now I immediately think she's got to be pregnant otherwise she wouldn't show me this. I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed but I can do deductive reasoning! I look back down and see that it's positive. I'm happy, I'm surprised, I'm ecstatic, I'm every positive emotion for like 3 seconds until the doubt sets in...But we didn't do IVF, and the last time we did it didn't work. I got my hopes up before and I wanted to keep myself in check before I'd let myself get them up again, which to be honest is a little sad, well it's very sad because I'm purposefully repressing hope to shield myself from the pain again. The pain I felt back in November when what I really wanted, and what I really thought was going to happen...suddenly didn't.
So I process she's pregnant, I'm hopeful, but then I put my guard up. "How? Are you sure?" She shrugs her shoulders with a smile, "I think so". Neither of us believe the third positive pregnancy test I made her take. Both of us remember the repressed pain and try to repress it further by putting our guard up and letting doubt win. To my recollection we celebrated but it was a hesitant celebration, like we kind of let ourselves believe it might kind of sort of be possible and how great and amazing that would be, but we didn't really believe it at the same time. We got to talk a lot on a drive up to Idaho for a friend's wedding that weekend, but we mostly didn't bring it up. Even at the wedding when Rachel had an upset stomach we both thought it was because she ate too fast. Neither of us felt we could blame it on a miraculous parasite.
Flash forward to the following Monday morning at the doctor's office, with the nurse walking into a hilarious scene. You could cut whatever weird mix of emotion was in the air with a knife. I still remember the thought in my head when the nurse congratulated us for being pregnant on our third, "Shut up with your congratulations until we see a blood test or ultrasound or concrete evidence." And what was weirder was neither of us really said anything, needless to say it was awkward. Which we have since cleared up with that same nurse. I couldn't believe it and my guard was up fully. I was ready to hear the tests were a mistake, multiple false positives, that Rach had a funky pee probably from asparagus. It messes with the smell and color so maybe it could do this. I didn't really let myself have the hope. It was too much pain last November and the subsequent months that followed. I had buried that hope for now, buried it good and deep.
Then the moment. I saw it. The doctor said it. Rachel saw it, said it, and confirmed it. But still I took a minute before I let my guard down, before I believed it. Even though they'd both said it I had to dig that hole open and let the hope run wild. But when it did... oh boy was it fast and overwhelming. I still feel like I asked at least 5 times in 5 different ways if the doctor was sure. When I pray for the twins I thank God for our two little miracles and this feels like it eclipses miracles.
Those 3 seconds of joy and happiness I felt on Thursday was all I could feel now. Once I let my guard down it was down. I let myself believe. I opened myself up, I remembered the pain vividly from when it didn't work but it seemed to be erased little by little. The more I let myself believe the more that pain didn't matter anymore. It hurt like the dickens but now it didn't, now it doesn't.
I'm so very happy for this baby. Everyday I thank God for our new miracle, for "new baby" (we don't know the gender and I feel weird calling him or her 'it'). I was still skeptical, and I asked repeatedly what the odds of losing the baby could be, to what percentile confidence was the doctor? How many standard deviations? I needed the reassurance, I needed to know. The hurt was that deep, but by now my doubts are gone. This baby is coming and I'm so excited. Sometimes I even feel sorry for Boston and Lyla because I think they love my attention but this baby is going to get a lot of cuddles because I'm full of over a year of wishing I could have them. So ready or not New Baby, Daddy is bringing the cuddles!