Sunday, January 26, 2014

October 11, 2013 (An Old Journal Entry)

It was the morning of October 1st and I was holding onto a BIG secret.  A couple days earlier, I had gone back through my calendar at school during my morning planning time and realized that my cycle was a little late.  Much later than just a couple of days.  I had gotten so caught up in beginning of the school year activities and planning, I had completely forgotten to count how many weeks it had been since my last period.  I counted the weeks on my fingers and started freaking out once my hands held up 6 fingers.

I was beyond ecstatic.  I wanted to drop everything I was doing in that moment, ignore the fact that my 25 2nd graders would be back in my classroom at any moment from P.E., and go buy a pregnancy test at the drug store and take it in Rock Canyon’s itty bitty faculty restroom.

I’ll tell you now it was the longest school day of my life.  I’m a bit of a worrywart.  Maybe a little more than just OCD.  So once my brain got into “baby-mode” I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.  Forget the amazing flipchart I had just made to introduce place value and the place value war game we’d be playing for math.  Forget an hour of guided reading and centers where I had to analyze student reading skills and promote better reading.  I was a MESS.

The 3:20 dismissal bell finally rang and after half an hour of trying to plan for the next day, I did the unthinkable for someone like me.  I left 15 minutes before my contracted time was up.  I headed out the door, literally ran to my car crossing my fingers no one would intercept me, and headed home.  I followed the slowest old lady in the world home while impatiently drumming the steering wheel in hopes to ease my anxiety.

I pulled into our driveway, wrenched open our front door, and dropped everything I was holding to run into the bathroom to pull out a pregnancy test hidden there for purposes like todays.  After saying a quick prayer with the effect of “Thy will be done” and “please, oh please, oh please,”  I did my thing and set the stick on the counter to run its course.  All the while thinking that I was crazy and in fact would probably start my period soon and to hold my head up to fact disappointment. 

I couldn’t even wait 3 minutes before going back to look at the darn stick.  And there it was.  2 pink lines that turned the “Nope, you’re just crazy” thinking into “Brace yourself, and get ready for your life to change forever.”

I stared at it.

It stared back at me.

I looked in the mirror to make sure I was really awake.

My heart was pounding.  I was numb.

I dropped to my knees and prayed.  I was excited.  I was terrified.  I thanked my Heavenly Father that we were, indeed, not infertile (because yes, the thought had entered my mind). 

I grabbed the camera and snapped a picture of the test, then shoved it back into the box and hid it under the sink behind the basket of toilet paper rolls.

My next thought?  How on earth was I going to tell Tyler? 

It had to be good.  He loves surprises and I knew he’d been having a hard week with school and work.  But I also know that I absolutely stink at lying and I’m a huge blabbermouth with exciting secrets like these.

So, I didn’t tell him that night.   It was the hardest thing ever to not be overly smiley and happy.

The next morning I woke up.  Nausea hit me over the head like a cement truck.  Oh dear.  I couldn’t wait too long to tell him.  I somehow got through my bowl of cereal (which, bytheway, was disgusting!  Milk?  Gross!  Cheerios?  Yuck!).  The only thing I can eat in the morning and there was no way I was eating that again in the near future.  So long beloved cold cereal mornings.

The day passed and I spent my lunch break creating a video with iMovie for him.  Which, is no big deal.  He’s used to my obsessive behavior about creating memories and recording them.  He usually gets some kind of slideshow sometime during the year at a random time. 

The 3:20 dismissal bell rang again.  And you’ve got it, I left at 3:45 again.  I grabbed a few gag gifts to give him after I made him watch the slideshow and went home to finalize everything.

I even found the energy to make grilled chicken salad before he got home.  Score one for the pregnant nauseated wife!

After eating, I sat Tyler down to watch my little slideshow.  I told him it was to show him how proud I was of him for everything he was doing at school and at work.  I secretly turned on the camera to record his reaction and impatiently waited for the end of the show for the big reveal. 

My heart was pounding.   Then the last slide popped up and T got the biggest grin on his face.  

{Last slide of the slideshow...}

First words out of his mouth?  “What?!  Really?” 

I knew he’d been waiting a long time for this moment.  There’s plenty of women out there that just want to be a mom.  But it’s one in a million when your husband just wants to be a dad.

In the midst of kissing, a few tears, hugging, and quiet tender moments, we talked about doctors appointments, when the approximate due date would be (he missed that part in the slideshow to due still processing the “baby” word on the screen), and how I was feeling.  T opened his first Daddy gift that contained and “I’m So Glad When Daddy Comes Home” board book, “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament (I know, a little early, but it was adorable!), a baby bottle with two pregnancy tests in it (yes, I did take another one that day just to be sure), and a Hershey’s candy bar.

T’s prayer that night for our family prayer was beautiful.  He prayed for the future.  For our baby and for the unknown.   He prayed that we wouldn’t fear and that our excitement would outweigh our doubts.  And he prayed for me.  For us.

Oh sweet hour of prayer.


Baby Kussee due May 21, 2014


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