The day we knew our lives were changed forever

It was December 19, 2015. I awoke from a strange dream and got up to use the bathroom. Standing in the bathroom after the dream of a milk-soaked t-shirt, I reached under the cabinet for a pregnancy test. I wasn't late, I wasn't having any big symptoms (i.e. morning sickness, sore boobs, etc.) but I decided to take the test anyway. I didn't expect it to say yes, even if I actually was, because it was still 4 days before my period was even due. I did my business, and watched for the lines. The default line showed up, of course, but then seconds later (not minutes) the other line showed up. I had my glasses on and I moved them down on my face and got a little closer to look at the test. I couldn't be seeing what I thought I was, could I?? But sure enough, that second line was there, and it was dark. Not a faint little line that could be "iffy".

I began to shake. It was 7 o'clock in the morning, James was still asleep, but I opened the bathroom door and walked towards him...test in hand, wide-eyed, and shaking. He woke up before I even got to the bedside, and asked what was wrong. I couldn't even speak. I showed him the test (as if he could see it in the dark room) and mumbled something about it being positive. I leaned down to hug him and just started crying. He asked why I was crying and I blubbered something along the lines of, "Because I'm so happy!"

You see, at our age (I'm 35, he's 39) it can be more difficult to conceive. And I know so many people who struggle with infertility that 1) I couldn't believe that we were successful after 3 months of trying and 2) it almost didn't seem fair, that it would be that easy for us when so many struggle. I almost felt guilty.

We  had our first appointment at 9 weeks, and had our first ultrasound. It definitely made things more real, to see our little Tater wiggling around on the screen and to hear the little (but super fast!) heartbeat.

Before we ever started trying I had told James that if/when we did conceive I didn't want to tell anyone until we had made it out of the first trimester, just in case something happened. Well, let me tell you - that thought went right out the window and I was on my phone seconds after telling him, texting and calling those I'm closest to. My besties, my mom, etc. I blabbed at work as soon as I got there the following Monday. I just couldn't contain myself. We told his family and the rest of my family at Christmas, and found out one of his nieces is just 2 days behind me so we'll be having our babies around the same time, in August! We did refrain from posting on any social media sites until after we'd had our genetic testing and found out the gender, around 13 weeks. It was hard to keep quiet and I sort of stayed away from Facebook and my food blog until we could announce there.

Here is the announcement we  posted on Facebook: 

We were both so sure this baby was a boy. We called it a "he" anytime we talked about the baby and we just "knew" it was a boy. When the call came in with the results of my genetic testing, all results were normal, and did I want to know the sex? Um, YES!  And when she told me it was a girl, I was shocked. And then I cried. Not because I was opposed to having a girl, but I knew how badly he wanted a boy and I didn't want to tell him that it wasn't. I knew he'd get over it quickly and he'd love our little girl just as much as he would a boy, but I also knew that his initial reaction would be...disappointment. And that's ok. It's ok to have a preference. I wanted a boy my whole life. Up until maybe a year (or less) before we got married and started trying to conceive, I wanted a boy and that was that. If I had more than one child, one of each would be fantastic, but if I could only have one, I wanted it to be a boy. But the closer I got to the point of actually, possibly creating a child, I realized that all that really mattered to me was that the child be healthy, and that I could be a girl mom just as well as I could be a boy mom. Sure, I'm not the girliest of girls, I can't stand baby powder pink and the thought of all things ruffly sort of makes me  shudder, but...that's not all there is to it. And I'm not a total tomboy either so...I could do it, either way. 

I'd had a couple of dreams indicating it was a girl, and one that it was a boy. We had agreed on a girl name, but were having trouble with a boy name. I had a feeling inside that it was a girl, but I never spoke it out loud. Once I got  past the dread of telling him, once he had his moment to feel the disappointment, I couldn't help but be excited. All the bedding and furniture I had looked at was out the window now, it was all for boys, so now I had to look for new things.

Any reservations either of us may have had about having a girl have long since flown out the window and we are nothing short of ecstatic and anxiously (and impatiently) awaiting the arrival of our sweet little girl. I'm currently 15 weeks along, so we're not even half-way there yet, but time does seem to be moving along pretty quickly. I'm just now starting to see signs of the baby bump, but I can still wear most of my "regular" clothes. Jeans, are not my favorite thing, but I'm not big enough for maternity pants just yet. I felt like in the beginning I was so bloated, I looked many months pregnant some days when I was only weeks. I knew it wasn't baby bump but man...I made a little collage of the first 9 weeks of pics I took...that belly at week 8.5 was definitely not the baby! Ha! 

I stopped taking many pics after that because I wanted to wait until there was actually something to take a picture of. You know, something that was actually indicative of a baby not just belly bloat. I think we'll start weekly or monthly photos at 16 weeks, since there will probably be more to see by then. But here's the story of where it all started...the day our lives were forever changed. Our little girl will be here by the end of August, God willing, and we are so excited for the journey that will bring her here!!