...A Mother...
"For this child, I have prayed, and the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked of Him." ((I Samuel 1:27))
After twelve weeks of attempting to keep the occupant of my womb a secret, I must "out" him or her. Yes, Baby, the jig is up! Some people may be saying, "FINALLY," at this moment, while others might be a little surprised at the news of our addition. And to those of you who were previously convinced that I could not keep a secret, I say, "HA!" I have embraced the challenge of finding outfits with which to hide my rapidly expanding bump and bust with great gusto. I have truly enjoyed having a little secret (literally) hidden away from most of the world.
The road to Baby Watson (or BeeDub, as I like to call it), has not been some tra-la-la fantasy. I have seen more negative pregnancy tests than I care to see for a very long time, and the verse from I Samuel holds entirely true for me. I have prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and then prayed some more for this child. This whole experience has most certainly been one of the biggest exercises in faith of my entire life. While I watched friend after friend after friend become pregnant, it was hard for me not to lament my lack thereof. My mantra throughout the past year has been, "Someday me." It was hard, but I had faith that God wasn't telling me, "No," He was just saying, "Wait." On the night before I took the tell-tale pregnancy test, I dreamed that I found a small boy alone in the middle of a thick forest. I picked him up and clutched him against my chest while I wept bitterly. I awoke very early that day, admittedly expecting another negative, when God said, "Yes."
I am certainly not touting my faith as rock solid, but I have definitely been learning to lean upon God throughout the past 12 weeks. This is something that, unfortunately, does not always come naturally to me. I was born a skeptic. I thought the idea of the Tooth Fairy was ludicrous, and I accused my mother of running some elaborate scheme at the age of six when I realized that the handwriting on the tags of the gifts from Santa was, in fact, hers. I have to say that I did not fully believe the first positive pregnancy test, so I had to take another one the next morning. I probably would've taken a third and fourth, but we were out of tests, and I am cheap skeptic. Naturally, I was horrified at the idea of announcing my pregnancy during the first trimester. We did tell our parents, though, and my mother's reaction was puh-rice-less.
After I had my first ultrasound (because, of course, I had to see it before I let myself believe it wasn't yet another elaborate scheme), I called my mom and told her I had a Christmas gift that I just had to give her early. I routinely buy her little things here and there and give them to her for no reason, so she suspected nothing out of the ordinary this time. (Point: Me) I wrapped up tiny little UNC shoes (which are so precious, I could just DIE), an ultrasound picture, and a piece of green cardstock that said, "The rest of this gift will arrive around July 31st," and put them in a little Christmas bag. Both of my parents were home that evening, so it was perfect. I couldn't have planned it any better. Mom opened the gift and immediately jumped out of her chair and started hopping up and down while screaming. She did this for a good two minutes, and I actually started to worry about her having a heart attack, so I made her sit down. She continued to scream, though. I can't actually tell you what my dad's reaction was because I was too busy telling her to calm down. I think he's pretty excited, though, because he calls me now "just to check in," like he did when I was in college and he thought I was going to get mugged, worn out, or too drunk for my own good on a regular basis.
I am incredibly excited to begin my second trimester this week. I got to hear BeeDub's heartbeat again yesterday, and Patrick will get to hear it on Thursday this week. My skeptic preference would be to hear it every week between now and D-Day, but once again, I'm cheap. As I've said, everything associated with pregnancy and parenthood is an exercise in faith. I have been asking God nightly to protect my baby and to help me lean on Him even more throughout my pregnancy and journey as a mother. I look forward to sharing more of these experiences with you. That being said, I promise not to be one of those annoying preggos who posts every craving and symptom on her facebook. I may be pregnant, but I'm still Christy after all. :)
After twelve weeks of attempting to keep the occupant of my womb a secret, I must "out" him or her. Yes, Baby, the jig is up! Some people may be saying, "FINALLY," at this moment, while others might be a little surprised at the news of our addition. And to those of you who were previously convinced that I could not keep a secret, I say, "HA!" I have embraced the challenge of finding outfits with which to hide my rapidly expanding bump and bust with great gusto. I have truly enjoyed having a little secret (literally) hidden away from most of the world.
The road to Baby Watson (or BeeDub, as I like to call it), has not been some tra-la-la fantasy. I have seen more negative pregnancy tests than I care to see for a very long time, and the verse from I Samuel holds entirely true for me. I have prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and then prayed some more for this child. This whole experience has most certainly been one of the biggest exercises in faith of my entire life. While I watched friend after friend after friend become pregnant, it was hard for me not to lament my lack thereof. My mantra throughout the past year has been, "Someday me." It was hard, but I had faith that God wasn't telling me, "No," He was just saying, "Wait." On the night before I took the tell-tale pregnancy test, I dreamed that I found a small boy alone in the middle of a thick forest. I picked him up and clutched him against my chest while I wept bitterly. I awoke very early that day, admittedly expecting another negative, when God said, "Yes."
I am certainly not touting my faith as rock solid, but I have definitely been learning to lean upon God throughout the past 12 weeks. This is something that, unfortunately, does not always come naturally to me. I was born a skeptic. I thought the idea of the Tooth Fairy was ludicrous, and I accused my mother of running some elaborate scheme at the age of six when I realized that the handwriting on the tags of the gifts from Santa was, in fact, hers. I have to say that I did not fully believe the first positive pregnancy test, so I had to take another one the next morning. I probably would've taken a third and fourth, but we were out of tests, and I am cheap skeptic. Naturally, I was horrified at the idea of announcing my pregnancy during the first trimester. We did tell our parents, though, and my mother's reaction was puh-rice-less.
After I had my first ultrasound (because, of course, I had to see it before I let myself believe it wasn't yet another elaborate scheme), I called my mom and told her I had a Christmas gift that I just had to give her early. I routinely buy her little things here and there and give them to her for no reason, so she suspected nothing out of the ordinary this time. (Point: Me) I wrapped up tiny little UNC shoes (which are so precious, I could just DIE), an ultrasound picture, and a piece of green cardstock that said, "The rest of this gift will arrive around July 31st," and put them in a little Christmas bag. Both of my parents were home that evening, so it was perfect. I couldn't have planned it any better. Mom opened the gift and immediately jumped out of her chair and started hopping up and down while screaming. She did this for a good two minutes, and I actually started to worry about her having a heart attack, so I made her sit down. She continued to scream, though. I can't actually tell you what my dad's reaction was because I was too busy telling her to calm down. I think he's pretty excited, though, because he calls me now "just to check in," like he did when I was in college and he thought I was going to get mugged, worn out, or too drunk for my own good on a regular basis.
I am incredibly excited to begin my second trimester this week. I got to hear BeeDub's heartbeat again yesterday, and Patrick will get to hear it on Thursday this week. My skeptic preference would be to hear it every week between now and D-Day, but once again, I'm cheap. As I've said, everything associated with pregnancy and parenthood is an exercise in faith. I have been asking God nightly to protect my baby and to help me lean on Him even more throughout my pregnancy and journey as a mother. I look forward to sharing more of these experiences with you. That being said, I promise not to be one of those annoying preggos who posts every craving and symptom on her facebook. I may be pregnant, but I'm still Christy after all. :)
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