Hi there. It’s nice to meet you, and thank you for sharing this journey with me! I know you may not know me, and if you don’t, you should know one thing about me before […]
Hi there. It’s nice to meet you, and thank you for sharing this journey with me! I know you may not know me, and if you don’t, you should know one thing about me before you begin to follow along:
Being a mommy is one of my biggest life dreams.
In all honesty, I had always had a secret fear that because I wanted it so badly, it might never happen. It was kind of like the feeling of being scared of how much you love something (or someone), knowing it could be taken away. But, in my heart, I knew that if I were to be a mommy, it would be when I was ready. Not a day before.
As my 29th birthday approached in January, and my twenties were farther behind me than ahead, my little fear amplified. Of course I knew that many people much older than myself had healthy, perfect babies all the time. I had just personally felt ready for so long. I longed for my turn. I kept this fear inside and didn’t tell anyone of this feeling, not even my fiancé, Darrin.
A few days after my birthday, and I mean, maybe two, things felt a little different. I went out with my best friends for dinner and didn’t care much for a celebratory cocktail. My breasts were sore, and my mood was up and down—and all over the place. What was this? It couldn’t be what I thought it was. I decided to take a test. Positive, but the lines were a little unclear. I’ll take another. Positive. And another. After four tests, it was no longer unclear. It was positive, and I was pregnant.
I don’t know if any of you mommies out there have experienced this, but my first trimester was very surreal. I didn’t expect this reaction at all (note my opening line). Even with the nausea, dizzy spells and fatigue, I couldn’t really wrap my head around it. That is until this past Monday, April 27, when Darrin and I went to our gender appointment. We waited for the longest 40 minutes of my life before being seen. I had gone to my first ultrasound alone, so this felt different having someone there by my side. We got into the room, and the nurse put warm jelly on my belly. Baby was all balled up, and it took quite awhile for us to get a glimpse—girl or boy?
Finally, the letters appeared: G-I-R-L. And there she was. Our girl. Ours. And there it was, my dream becoming reality. I’ve thought a lot about what it means to bring a baby into this world. It is an imperfect world, and at times, I’m a little scared. But here’s the thing that calms me: Darrin and I get what might be our one chance, through her, to love something deeply and perfectly. To give her everything we have. Isn’t that the beauty of it all, anyway?
A few days before the appointment, I posted a photo of the fallen petals that covered our driveway like pink snow. A friend texted me to say that I should write, “It’s a girl,” because it was obviously a sign of what was to come. So, I went out and formed the letters and snapped the picture. I believe it was a little message from our baby-to-be. She will be here with us before the spring flowers are replaced with fall leaves.