Today is a bit ironic. It’s the 17th. Which means it’s Josiah Day. But it’s also the second anniversary of the day I had my first beta test to determine if my first round of IVF had worked. I often think about that day. I remember it was a beautiful Thursday afternoon. The sun was beaming through the windows as I sat in the Taco Tierra parking lot listening to the nurse say, “Congratulations! You’re a Mom!”. I will never forget that moment, as tears of joy slowly streamed down my face and I gently rubbed my belly. I was a Mommy. I often think about the moments that followed when I hung up the phone and whispered to my lil duckling(s) that I loved them more than they would ever know. I remember making a promise that I would do everything and anything in my power to protect them as they journeyed through life. I often think about how I dashed to Walmart, Hobby Lobby, and Michaels in order to purchase items needed to surprise Daniel with a creative announcement, accompanied with a “Daddy Doody Kit”. I remember coming home, frantically putting together his gift and being so anxious and excited to surprise him with the news that I was finally expecting…we were finally going to be parents. I remember the smile he gave when he came home, opened the oven and realized he was a Daddy. I remember discussing nursery ideas, due dates, and names over a healthy meal of chicken fajitas that I had prepared. It was one of the happiest days of my life. I also remember that a little over a week later, I miscarried. In my heartache, I threw away the “Daddy Doody Kit.” I tossed the positive pregnancy tests I was keeping as a keepsake in the trash. I quit talking about nursery ideas. And I wept. I wept for days, weeks, and off and on for months. My spirit and soul was crushed as I was unable to keep my promise to always protect. Last year was the first anniversary of that amazing day. I remember spending most of the day in tears as I grieved the happiness of that day and mourned the life or lives that should have been. I cried wondering what they would have looked like. Would he or she have had my eyes? What would their giggle have sounded like? Would they have been a momma’s boy or a daddy’s girl? May 17th had turned into a day of sadness rather than a day of remembering the celebration. But today, two years after I learned I was a mommy. And one year thereafter still grieving the loss. I am different. This day is different. God has turned my mourning into dancing. He has taken my weeping and turned it into laughing. He has taken my sadness and turned it into joy. He has given me a reason to smile and celebrate the 17th of May again as I can once again shout, “I’m expecting!”
For He settles the barren woman as a happy mother of children. Praise The Lord! ~Psalm 113:9
For those of you hyperventilating and flailing your arms around like a wounded bird, quickly grab a brown paper bag and calm down, because I’m not physically expecting. But rather in my spirit. Because I am pregnant with hope that God will fulfill all of His promises written within His word about fruitfulness and healing. And I am pregnant with faith that the promises He has personally made regarding my husband and I having a child, will be fulfilled. This is why today, I can still celebrate being pregnant. Today, I will give Daniel a new “Daddy Doody Kit” in faith that one day he will need to use it. And after I do? I plan on glowing as we talk nursery ideas. Middle names. And hopeful due dates.
The 2014 new and improved “Daddy Doody Emergency Kit”
Pacifiers, Hand Sanitizer, Nose Plugs (for the stinky ones)
Advil, Rolos, Butterfinger, Peanut M & M’s, and a 5 hour energy (ALL for daddy…hehe)
Gloves, Face Mask, Safety Goggles (for the unexpected spray) , Poncho (never know how messy things can get), tongs (to dispose of diapers), baby powder, baby lotion, baby wash, diapers, and wipes.
A onsie just in case of a blowout 😉
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