A Baby Story (Part 3)

This is Part 3 of the post I started on Friday. For an introduction and explanation, or to start at the beginning of the story, click here.

At first I didn’t believe it. How could I be pregnant? I wasn’t taking any meds. I had no idea when I last ovulated. I HAD LITERALLY JUST SEEN THE INSIDE OF MY OWN UTERUS AND THERE WAS NO BABY IN IT. It was impossible.

I showed David the test and he was thrilled. Never questioned it. I was pregnant and that was awesome. End of story. I was not so trusting.

I immediately went to the store, bought the fanciest digital pregnancy test I could find, brought it home, and took it. This time there was no mistaking it; the little window said “pregnant.”

So I called the fertility clinic. “Uh, I just took a pregnancy test and it’s positive. What the heck am I supposed to do now?” I probably sounded like a complete loon. They told me to come in the next morning for a blood test to confirm the pregnancy. Sure enough, their test came back positive too. And when I went in for another blood test a few days later, my hormone levels were rising just like a pregnant woman’s should.

A few weeks later, they had us come in for an ultrasound. That’s when we saw her for the first time. A tiny little blob on the screen with an even tinier beating heart. There was no mistaking it: I had a baby in my belly.

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It would be easy to say, as the staff at the fertility clinic did, that I got pregnant because I stopped trying and just relaxed. And that may be true. Maybe setting aside my need for control and the stress that came with it was just what my body needed to start working right. Maybe the drugs were hurting our chances rather than helping them, and once they cleared out of my system things could happen as they should. Shoot, maybe the fact that David started wearing shorts every day last summer is what made all the difference.

I don’t know why God decided to bless us with a baby when He did, but this is what I believe. I believe He was waiting for me to stop thinking I could make things happen on my own. He was waiting for a window of opportunity when my pregnancy absolutely could not be attributed to medical interventions or homeopathic remedies or me keeping track of my cycles or anything else. He was waiting to give me the miracle I kept pleading for, and it couldn’t come until a time when I would know for certain that it was a gift from Him.

And because He waited, because His timing is perfect, I know:

In a few days I’m going to give birth to a miracle.

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