September 10, 2008 is a day I'll never forget. I woke up nervous, excited, anxious... I was in Laguna Hills, California. Bill and I woke up early to go down to the Microsort office for him to give his sample. The morning was cloudy and cool and absolutely amazing! We (of course) got lost and couldn't find the office, and I was frantic. Finally, we found where we needed to go. We weren't there long as Bill was able to do his part easily! We left there and went to a big breakfast at a great greasy-spoon joint that the name escapes me just now... I remember it started with a C. Then, knowing we had some time, we took a drive to Aliso Beach. It was beyond amazing! We stood and stared out into the ocean... quiet with our own thoughts. We stood there a long, long time. It was so peaceful. I just knew we were doing the right thing. Together, hand in hand, we began walking... and talking. We talked about why we were there - what it meant for our future. We talked about the future we anticipated and made plans for things to come. As we walked I found that white heart shaped shell that I just knew was my sign that all was going to work out. As things began to get emotional and a little to "real," Bill broke the tension with, "A little porn... a GREAT breakfast, and a walk along a beautiful beach with you... Not a bad way to start the day!" (His humor is what made me fall in love with him in the first place!)
Then the call came... and it was time to head back to the clinic. Time to make this miracle happen. We didn't have to wait long once we arrived. It actually seemed to be going too fast! I remember feeling as if I was going to pass out and having to breathe slowly so my nerves didn't completely take over. The nurse walked in... did a quick explanation of what was about to happen, and then we got started. Through the eyes of an ultrasound machine, I was able to see the miracle more or less take place. It was surreal. I rubbed and rubbed that heart shaped shell like my life depended on it. I felt as though it just might. After laying there for what seemed like an eternity - holding my husband's amazingly strong hands in silence, we were told we could go. Just like that... all of the planning, secrecy, working to make this happen, and we were done. Just done.
Little did I know that one year ago today I would be blessed. Blessed beyond words with the sweetest gift God could give me. There have been so many times since that beautiful September day that I felt cursed rather than blessed. Punished, damned... anything but taken care of, loved, given a true gift. But a gift I was given... the packaging was just not what I had expected. Of course, when we expect a certain gift, often times it's not quite as exciting once we have it, you know? Then there are surprises... those that you think are awful and NOT what you wanted, hoped, or dreamed for at all... but, once that surprise package is opened, looked at, held, and - eventually - treasured... isn't it better than what your expectations could have ever prevailed? I have to say yes.
It's not been very long since I was in the absolute darkest place I've ever been - in my entire life. After the incredibly easy journey to MS with all of the "right signs," I crashed hard when I found out Carter Chance was on his way. I was one of those who was to the extreme of not wanting him - daydreamed of how it could work to give him up to someone who DID want him.
Eventually, the day came for him to come into our family. I was feeling so strange - I just expected that, even though I still didn't want a third boy, I would fall head over heels for him just like I did for Connor. After a VERY easy L&D, I waited. I sat there. I looked at him in the bassinet after they were cleaning him up... I didn't feel that painful stretch of my heart growing and bounding with love for him like it did with Connor. Oh my God! I didn't fall in love with him instantly like I was supposed to! Oh God! I've wished him away for so long that I'm never ever going to love him! Despite these feelings, I went straight away to taking very good care of him and doing all of the things a good new mommy should do. I nursed him, I held him, I smiled for the cameras, I kissed him... thinking all of these things would work like the electric shock to your heart gets you going when you're on the brink of death. Alas... not so much.
We brought him home - I saw my boys, my husband, my family fall absolutely in love with my new baby. I had to admit he was the cutest little thing ever, but I still didn't feel "in love" with him. Thankfully, he was a good baby - AT NIGHT. He went straight to sleeping most all of the night, waking for one or two feedings. It was the days that were hard. When we were all fully awake, and I was fully aware that I was toting around my third blue bundle instead of cuddling my dreams of pink. Fussy, oh my gosh, he was so fussy. Spit up like you've never imagined. I just KNEW that my months of dislike - alright HATE - of the thought of him joining our family caused him to be the most unhappy baby ever. It was so hard. I was probably the opposite of new parents - I looked forward to the night time hours when he would grow quiet, and not remind me of how unhappy I had made him.
4 a.m. had become his feeding time. And, eventually, it started to change... 4 a.m. started to become "our" time. It was quiet, mostly dark, and just me and this little man that I never wanted. He would nurse so sweetly with such calm and peace... and then I'd place him on my shoulder - smell that yummy nighttime baby lotion smell and pat him. He would coo and burp and make noises of "thanks, Mommy." Eventually, I began kissing his cheeks as I would burp him. I would stop and take in a huge breath of his perfect smell. I would slowly kiss his little cheeks, appreciating their softness and felt in awe that he came from a body and mind that wished him away. Then... one night, as I kissed his cheeks, I whispered, "I do love you, Carter Chance," and I kissed his perfect little lips... and... in the still of the night... he smiled at me. Yes, I'm quite sure it was gas, but he smiled after I showed him love. From that moment on, I told him I loved him more and more... I kissed him more and more. And he began smiling more and more! (He smiled earlier - for REAL - than Caleb or Connor!) One night I remember Bill coming in as I was loving on him, and he said, "You'd better be careful... someone might think you actually like that baby a little bit!" (You have to know Bill - this meant the world to me for him to say that!)
The sun on the relationship between me and my Carter Chance began to rise slowly - a little more light would shine on us each and every day. Now - I ache when he's not in my arms. I miss him when he sleeps too long. I stare at him longingly - knowing he was meant for me. why? I'll never know, but I do know he's mine, and I. DO. LOVE. HIM! As I write this, he's asleep on my breast - suckling ever so slightly - as happy as can be. And as for me - while the ache of having a daughter will never ever leave my heart, I'm in love with this baby... this perfect baby who (in my opinion) beat the greatest of odds to meet me. He looks at me with love like I've never seen a 10 week old look at a mommy before. (I'm sure you'll all disagree with that statement, but it feels that way to me!)
At any rate, I overcame my darkest time, and I'm all the more blessed to have been able to witness the overwhelming love I have for Carter to grow over time as I nurtured it and gave into it. It has surrounded me and taken me over. And I welcome it each and every day. I am finally able to thank God for the very thing I thought he was using to punishing me - my sweet, beautiful, perfect baby boy.
And Baby C has a name, too!
Carter Chance came into our family at 10:26 a.m. weighing 7lbs. 14oz and a whopping 21 in long! (No wonder it felt like his feet were in my lungs and throat... they WERE!!)
We arrived at the hospital at 6a.m. after NO SLEEP due to severe heartburn and some awesome thunderstorms! I got hooked up to pitocin at about 7:30. My doc broke my water about 8:45, and the contractions that I was already having got pretty strong. At that point, I was at a 2 and about 70-80% effaced. They kept asking if I wanted stadol (sp) or my epi, and I said no. (I have heard icky things about stadol, and I have no idea why I wanted to wait for the epi!) Finally, the contractions did get very strong, and they felt different than with C&C - these were so intense and almost a sharp pain. So I got the epi about 9:30, I guess. My mom, bless her heart, was so hungry. (This was about 10:00.) I told her to go get something to eat because it wasn't like we were going to have the baby in the next 15-20 mins! She did. I was laying on my left side to "numb it up" and was to turn to my right side after about 15 minutes. I started feeling really strong contractions again, but only on the right side. So Bill helped me turn over. When I did, the monitor lost the baby's heartbeat. We tried to find it ourselves, but couldn't so the nurse came in and fiddled with the monitor. She couldn't find his heartbeat, and I saw a flash of concern on her face. She kicked everyone out (besides Bill), slapped on a glove, and checked me. The look on her face was PRICELESS... She said, "THAT'S why we can't find the heartbeat! He's coming out NOW!" So Bill called my mom while the nurse had me go ahead and give a couple of pushes. They called my doc over, though I think they didn't expect him to get there in time because a team of nurses came in. Mom finally showed up just about the time the doc came zooming in. Up my legs went, 3 pushes, and out he was! No tearing, no horrible swelling, nothing. The easiest delivery by far. I was up walking to the bathroom on my own by 11:00.
Carter is so quiet. I've heard him cry (kind of) twice when he got his first shots. Other than that, all he does is coo. It's adorable. Connor wasn't sure what to think at first, but now he can't stop kissing him. Caleb is so smitten that he doesn't like for ANYONE else to hold him. He wants him all of the tme. It's cute. I'm sure it will be cute but rough once we get home. At any rate, I'll take it because my big boys LOVE their little brother. And, I think I kinda like him a little bit myself!
Thanks for your support through this journey. I'm sure there will be some rollercoaster days to come, but I'm doing better than I thought I would at this point.
The end of one of the most difficult journeys I have EVER been through. And, now that I'm at the end, I'm a wreck... which is funny since all I've wanted this whole time is for this to just be over.
Backing up just a tad... After much praying and consideration, we went for MS/IUI in Sept. 09. Everything just clicked. One try, one shot, and a very awesome sort %. From the very beginning, this pregnancy was different - still is. All of these things just made me think, this HAS to be my daughter. My very dreamed of, longed for daughter... praise God! Unfortunately, on January 12th, my dreams were shattered. I was in shock. I have been in a really hard place since then. I've been in counseling and put back on anti-depressants. I've had a few good days sprinkled in the bad, but it's still been a very rough journey. As the end of this pregnancy has drawn near, I've been in a lot of pain - as everyone is at the end, but the GD and pain combined has really taken its toll. That, and the fact that my doctor has not been in agreement with my due date has just allowed me to sink further.
Yesterday was my last OB appt. I was planning on having my doctor strip my membranes, but after finding out he's leaving town I chose against it. (Even though I've been very upset with him, I love and respect him as my doctor, and I wouldn't want any one else delivering this baby.) So now I am officially on the books for an induction for Monday, June 1st @ 6 a.m. I know lots of people do not agree with elective inductions, but that's what I've always done, it makes me comfortable, and I have GOT to be finished with this misery.
Now then... there's a light at the end of the tunnel. The finish line is visible yet I'm afraid to keep running toward the goal. Yesterday's appt. included a quick u/s of head, femur, and chest(?) measurements. Those measurements say this baby is 8 lbs. 4 oz. RIGHT NOW. I am terrified that I'm going to end up with another 4th degree tear or a c/s. I'm afraid that the pain from either one of those will send me into a total tailspin of depression that will be hard to get out of. It feels like - as of Monday - I will be living a life I never wanted. I know how awful and horrible that sounds, but I am so, so scared.
I just hope and pray that the end of this journey is the beginning of one of love, peace, and a life that - although I didn't WANT - will be one that makes me feel complete. I don't want to want a daughter any more. I want to be done and move on with peace and contentment and a feeling of fullness in my heart without one empty spot to be found.
Thanks for being here with me through this journey.
I'm quite certain it has a TON to do with feeling the physical effects of pregnancy... growing larger, becoming more and more tired, heartburn, back aches, and just plain feeling UGH. Those, compounded with this enormous swell of emotion that has literally taken over and crushed my heart, and I can't seem to surface.
I think the only thing that gets me through the days are my wonderful Caleb and Connor. Caleb grows more and more excited every day to meet his baby brother. He sits with me in the evenings... eyes on the TV, hand on my belly. He loves to feel the baby move. This weekend he snuggled up beside me in bed and just felt the baby move for the longest time. That brings me comfort... in that moment, at least. And Connor... bless his heart... yesterday he climbed up beside me and said, "I can't wait baby bruver coming." It was so random. Bill and I just stared at one another.
Everyone walks on eggshells around me. And rightly so - I know they are so tired of my breaking down right then and there and crying in front of God and everyone. God... the one who has let me down. *sigh*
Talking with Bill this weekend, I think he's lost his ever-loving mind. He's all gung ho to "try naturally" or go high tech yet again (with the exact procedure that failed us) to get our daughter. I can't do it. I simply cannot. I can't live through this pain and heartbreak again. I'm still trying to figure out how my heart will mend this time... much less if I were to find myself here again... in what would surely be exponentially worse pain and a heart that would be shattered far beyond all repair. That is, if I can repair it this time. This all just makes me so, so tired.
So many decisions need to be made... which room will the new baby be in? Will C & C room together now? What bedding are we going to use? What name have we picked out? I feel like some strange cartoon character that has pictures, stars, chirping birds, etc. whirling around their head after a large bonk on the noggin. I can't focus on any of it right now. It's as if it keeps it from being too real.
Speaking of real... we go in on Tuesday, March 17th for a 3D u/s. This helped me with Connor (my GD then couldn't touch what it is this time). I'm praying and hoping above all hope that this... a peek inside with C & C watching along... will allow just a little love to slip in. Really, I don't think I'm asking for too much. I learned to not ever do that again. Just a spark of love. It's all I need (hopefully) to make it to the end of this - the most difficult journey I've ever embarked upon.
The only problem is - this isn't a good surprise. Nope. Not good at all. But let me rewind a bit first...
I had hope. I had faith. I had peace. Yes, all of those things in the past tense, unfortunately. I prayed about doing MS/IUI - asking for God's will to be done, and if it were meant for me to go this route to get my daughter that doors would be opened! And - if any of you remember - THEY WERE!! Doors opened like magic... like clockwork... like it was meant to be. Yes, we encountered obstacles along the way, but they were easily overcome, and I felt confident in moving forward. So we did.
I was blessed to be a OHW with such a process, and I was excited/anxious/nervous all at the same time when that BFP showed up. And when I got the sort purity!!! WELL!! Who couldn't get their hopes up (even if momentarily) when you get a 92.89% sort! Even so, I have continued to pray for peace, contentment, and God's will to be done through this. I never prayed for a daughter, per se... guess I should have given it a try. I had signs all around me - people praying for me - that this would be the thing that completed my family with a daughter to go with my two wonderful boys. Don't believe in signs... they just lead you astray.
Well, here I am - a day shy of 20 weeks pregnant with what I believed to be my MS miracle. If, by all of the negativity you haven't guessed yet... My dream has been shattered. It's a boy. I'm now one of those statistics everyone who gives MS a try prays they aren't one of. I'M A FREAKING STATISTIC!!
It just brings me back to the original title of this blog... where I started so long ago?
"Where am I headed?"
Unfortunately, not down the road I ever wanted to travel... the road leading to God's will that I don't want any part of anymore.
I can't believe I'm actually typing this! Here goes:
We decided to give MS/IUI a try. I decided not to tell. I couldn't tell all the wonderful women who I KNOW would love and support me. Why? I was afraid of disappointing them. I was afraid of coming home with a BFN and having to hear "sorry" over and over - disappointing myself and those who wanted it so badly for me. I officially had a big secret.
We were scheduled to cycle in July, but our move/closing on the old house was right around ovulation, so we pushed to August. Still dealing with house stuff and Bill's grandmother's passing, we went ahead and pushed to Sept. I started my period early (8/30) - the morning we left for Bill's grandmother's funeral. This was Labor Day weekend, and it really frightened me that I wouldn't be able to get in touch with Nachet and get my u/s done when I needed and get my Clomid started in time. Once I got in touch with Nachet, she set my mind at ease. I had my u/s done and started Clomid. I had my 2nd u/s the following Monday where we found 2 HUGE follicles - one measuring 23 the other 26!! I wasn't even to my car in the parking lot when Nachet was calling my cell phone telling my she'd already scheduled me for Wednesday, and that we needed to get there ASAP. Now, this wouldn't normally be a problem - however, my love-to-have-things-planned husband had already guesstimated (with my help) the timing and scheduled our entire trip. We weren't set to leave until THURSDAY! So, we scrambled home, got travel plans changed, child care changed, and dog care changed. That night - after much crying and freaking out that "this just must not be meant to be" - Bill gave me the Ovidrel shot and said we were going to do this thing!
Wednesday was easy - Bill did his thing at 7:30 that morning then we had breakfast and went to the beach. It was so soothing and calming... I think it really helped! Plus, I found what I thought to be my first "sign." A lovely white shell in the perfect shape of a heart.
Nachet called us to tell us all looked good and my appointment was at 2:00. Walking down the stark white hall with the identical brown doors to that very last door on the right was so emotional. I was a wreck. We got in there, and Nachet could tell how nervous I was. She was wonderful in helping me calm down. She took us to a room, and she quickly returned - speciman in a cooler - ready to go. She pulled everything out to have us verbally verify the information was correct. I almost had heart failure - everything was marked with BLUE!!! I gave Nachet a hard time about that, and she certainly thought I was nuts! I then assumed the position and they got an abdominal u/s going while Nachet prepared the catheter for the IUI. She talked us through the whole thing, and showed us on the screen exactly when and where the specimen was being placed. While it was all very interesting, it was terrifying at the same time! I kept eyeing the smelling salt taped to the paper towel dispenser - knowing full well I was going to need it any second. The only thing that kept me from literally passing out was rubbing on my heart shell. I rubbed and rubbed... it had a perfect rounded spot on the back for my thumb! Once Nachet was finished, I had to lay there for 20 minutes... done. That was it. I couldn't believe how physically easy the procedure was - and at the same time emotionally draining!! WOW!! The only thing I had to do after that (besides dwell, wonder, and figure out if I had any pregnancy symptoms) was take progesterone capsules vaginally for 14 days.
Upon arriving home, Caleb came up to me in the kitchen - just the two of us - and he said, "I see something in your tummy." "What?" I asked. "You have a baby in your tummy. I see it." Hmmm... another sign?
I tested 2 days early - Monday the 22nd. It was early in the morning, and I tried to sneak in there while Bill was showering. Unfortunately - I was busted! "Shame, shame," he scolded me... I POAS, and didn't see anything. I threw it to the ground. Then... surely, I thought, it was just my tired eyes seeing things... a faint positive showed up. I put it on the counter and simply said, "I bet it's darker in 2 days." (They day I was SUPPOSED to test.) "Huh?" was his reply... I repeated my comment. He walked over to the test, looked at it, and said, "Looks pretty dark to me!" "ha?!" I went over there... and there it was - the + sign. Positive. Pregnant. Positively pregnant. Wow. Well, of course I had to use the other 2 tests that came in the package! I did the next morning at 4a.m. and 7a.m. They seemed lighter. It concerned me, so I went and just bought the ones that say the word! At 2 that afternoon I POAS and it said the word - "pregnant." Wow again. So I HAD to take that last test Wednesday morning - the day I was supposed to test, anyway. "Pregnant" yet again! After 5 tests, I guess I'll believe it!
Still, I wasn't feeling the excitement that some were... my apprehension and worry were too great. Then the call from Nachet came... our sort was 92.89%!!!! I am 13.06 times more likely to have a girl! Thank you, Lord!! Now I'm feeling a twinge of excitement... and hunger... yep, I'm pregnant!
So, I've prayed... I've prayed, and I've prayed, and I've prayed... for what, you ask? No, surprisingly, NOT for a daughter, but for peace. PEACE! That's what I've prayed for - for so long now. I wanted peace with what I have - 2 wonderful sons, peace about the prospect of having a daughter (or not), peace about how to go about getting a daughter if indeed that's what I'm supposed to do.
Well, a couple/few months back I sat there quaking as I looked at the phone in my hand and the phone number on the computer monitor. It was that of the infamous HRC. "That's it," I finally thought one day, "I have to at least make the call. If it doesn't happen, that's God's way of telling me NO." So, I called. Not only that, I faxed in all of the paperwork AND had all of the lab work done here with my doctor and told him about my grand plans for MS/IUI. HRC did tell me that they wouldn't be doing any call-backs or setting up any new appointments for MS/IUI until after the first of the year. "Fine," I thought, "It's not like I want to be pregnant right now, anyway!" And then - it hit me...
Seriously... as soon as I made the decision to call HRC and got that ball rolling, peace surrounded me like a warm blanket. It was an eerie feeling as I haven't experienced true peace in my heart in years. Thank you, Lord, for the answered prayer!
*Sigh*... fast forward to now. I caught myself crying in the shower the other day. (Shower time is my prayer time!) I was crying because I hadn't thought about having a daughter in what seemed to be a long, long time... That's when I started to fret, "Oh, Lord! Is this your way of telling me that I'm NOT going to have a baby girl of my own someday? This peace that I have/had... does it mean my dream is lost?" And then I got so mad at myself for questioning God after he blessed me with the very thing I pleaded for - PEACE! I mean, seriously, I could literally see him hanging out on a cloud up there slapping his forehead and rolling his eyes saying, "COME ON, CAREY! Make up your mind, Girl!" Oh, I wish it were that easy... And then, of course, Christmas hits... and there are all the pretty baby girls in their pretty frilly dresses getting the pretty perfect gifts... ugh... if that doesn't yank GD up from the place deep inside where I buried it and dangle it right back in my face and stuff it in my heart, I don't know what will! (Not to mention the fact that I pulled my one and only niece's name to buy for this year!)
So... now I wonder... do I really want peace? Do I want to be happy with what God has blessed me so abundantly with? Do I want to continue to yearn for that daughter so that perhaps I will continue to seek her out? Do I want HRC to call? (I honestly don't think they will after lurking the high tech boards!) And, finally...
what do I do if/when one day in this upcoming new year my phone rings, and the caller id says, "Hunting Reproductive Clinic..."
Is that my daughter calling?
I guess I'm on the top of the roller coaster ride of what we know as Gender Disappointment. I say the top because that seems to be the best part - full of anticipation, excitement, and the feeling of butterflies fluttering about your stomach. You can't get higher - literally!
Due to a certain post among my threads and the outpour of support and encouragement from my friends, I really started to look at my blessed family of four. I became wrapped in an invisible blanket of warm fuzzies for my beautiful boys and their father who loves them as fiercely as I do. I suddenly noticed cars and tables at restaurants and how they accommodate the round number of 4 so nicely. I'm not saying that's the right number for everyone... but I can't help but wonder if that's the magical number for me and my family.
Here is where the title makes sense:
Caleb spent the night with his Grandma last night. It's always bitter-sweet when Caleb spends a night away. It's nice to have some one-on-one with Connor and even a little extra time with Bill. But my heart longs for that sweet little man when he's not snoring in his sports-covered "big boy" bed. Today, however, seemed to be the sweetest reunion, if you will, we've ever had after a night away. He came in around lunch time, had the usual PB&J for lunch, and then asked me to tuck him into bed for his nap. I went and cuddled in beside him. We were face to face, both of us grinning ear to ear at one another - like we hadn't seen each other in weeks. He plopped his arm over me and said, "I love you, Mom," and, "You're my best good friend," more times than I can count. My heart was (and still is) a melted puddle of goop in the bottom of my chest cavity. How could it not melt with those beautiful green-brown eyes staring at me while uttering such terms of endearment over and over? *sigh*
As if I weren't already on cloud nine, Caleb asked if he could tell me a story. Sure! So he proceeds to tell me the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. He asks for this story every night, so I figured he would get the gist of it. To my amazement, he told it dutifully word for word, including the deep and high-pitched voices for the appropriate characters. I had to bite my tongue so as not to giggle and ruin this amazing time with my son. I could hear the influences that both Bill and I have added to the story - coming together to make it his own. It wrapped up with, "And Goldilocks never went wandering among the forest again." I wanted to jump up and down on his bed, clapping and shouting, "Bravo! Bravo!" but I was afraid that might freak him out a bit. (And get my head beat by his baseball bat ceiling fan!) Instead, I cried. My compassionate little prince just stroked my face and asked, "Why are you sad, Mommy?" I tried to explain what "happy tears" were - to no avail. Rather, he continued to comfort me and said, "If you cry happy tears, I will hug you and tell you 'it's ok!'" *tearing up again*
Tell me what Goldilocks could hold her mother and comfort and love her and make her feel any more special than that sweet young man I have? None. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Not a one. Yes, I know girls can be kind-hearted and sweet and lovable. But - I don't think anyone can love a mommy like the heart of a little boy. Especially my little boy Caleb.
God, how I love him.
I have so much love to give... yet I never knew it was in my heart to give until I became a mom. Twice. I knew I could love one baby. OH - especially if that baby was a girl! And basically because that's what I had always dreamed of. Having one daughter to love and to cherish and to be a best friend to... just like my mom did with me. Well, my plans changed in mid 2003 when I found out the baby I was carrying was none other than a boy! A WHAT? That's right - a boy. So much for my dreams. Well, that's ok... I could just have 2 kids - a boy and a girl. That's the "perfect" family, right?
Fabulous... 2005 and pregnant again! I just *know* this is my girl! It has to be. Afterall, I feel God telling me to "have faith" so often. ...Unfortunately, I'll never know for sure. This baby is so special that God decided to bring it home before I could have a chance to hold him/her. I guess we'll hold one another in Heaven some day.
I can't believe it... two lines again in 2006! If only I can get over the fear of losing this one, too. Well, I pass the "scary part" only to dive head first into what I now know to be full-blown gender disappointment. I don't even know this baby yet I am terrified I won't love it if it's another boy. And how can I possibly feel that way after being so full of love for Caleb? I guess that's exactly it. I'm so full of love for Caleb that there cannot possibly be any room left in my heart to love another little boy. Nope. Can't do it. This pregnancy is miserable. I feel horrible, I don't like being pregnant, and I'm terrified of the usually exciting 20-week ultra sound. (Especially since I took the hell-created BGM test at 8 weeks which told me "Congratulations! The fetus you are now carrying is a boy!") Surely it is wrong and I'll get my money back - times two! Well, 12 weeks later the Big Day arrives. I go in and the tech does all the "medical" stuff. I'm in there by myself, breaking my freaking neck to get a good crotch shot. Forget it. It's as if this tech knows my intentions and tilts the screen just so - enough to tease me and keep me in heart-wrenching suspense. She tells me to go the bathroom while she gets my awaiting family because "this baby's showing us what it is all over the place!" Well, that tells me what I needed to know. I go to the bathroom and just stare at myself in the mirror saying, "It's a boy." *fake a smile* "It's a boy, and it's ok. It's going to be ok." *fake a smile* Sure enough - it's a William Connor.
Fast forward through a miserable 19 more weeks to November 1, 2006 when, at 11:54 a.m., I meet the most amazing little man - my baby Connor! Immediately I fall in love, of course. But the guilt I feel for not loving him until just now is a weight that seems almost too heavy to bear. Then... Wait - what's this? Ouch! It kind of hurts... I think I can literally feel my heart expanding, growing to new depths with love for this wonderful little person they just handed me! It is amazing how the heart can grow! And then Caleb comes in to meet the new baby brother I just brought into his life. And, yes, I do have enough love for both of them.
The love I feel now for boys - 2 boys - overwhelms me every single day. I look at them and think, "Thank you, God, for blessing me - not once, but twice!" I am astounded at how an only child who only wanted one little girl can love two little boys so much that it physically hurts sometimes. My life is amazing as I watch these boys begin to love and adore one another just as I do them. Yes... my boys are all I need.
... aren't they?