So, since the best place to begin is usually the beginning, I guess I’ll start there. The beginning of Lucy.
I had attempted to make several appointments with my ob/gyn because my cycles were flipping out. 100 days, 10 days, 38 days and so on. Clearly something wasn’t right and after taking enough pregnancy tests to have warranted the purchase of a large amount of stock in the company, all negative, I decided it was time for professional involvement. I love my doctor, she’s pretty amazing and, awesomely enough, likes my husband and myself too. I imagine we could go out to dinner and enjoy some awesome conversation over a bottle of wine. Anyway, I came to her looking for advice on what in the world could be going on with my wonky body. I knew I was fat, but didn’t think that was the issue, it never has been (and fat isn’t new). I had horrible thoughts running through my head about cancer and all kinds of ugly things, but decided to wait until I talked to her before I invested in a cemetery plot and gravestone.
The doctor and myself took a bit of my appointment time catching up and then discussed my cycles. Clearly, so clearly, I just wasn’t ovulating. We couldn’t think why, but a strong dose of progesterone to kick start a cycle might be just what my body needed to get itself back into normal operating condition. She asked if I wanted another pregnancy test and I said no, I had taken yet another one that morning, just to be sure, before I came for my appointment and it was negative, just like the rest of them had been for nearly a year. I left with my prescription in hand and decided I’d get around to taking it eventually, if my body didn’t jump into normal on it’s own (don’t ask. I have no idea. Seriously, it wasn’t being “normal” yet, why would I think?? Yeah. I have no idea, LOL!).
The next few days were extraordinarily busy, I never got around to picking up my script. Finally my husband asked if I was ever going to take it. He was right, I needed to get it and get started on it so I promised to get it picked up the next day, and as promised managed to make it to the pharmacy and pick it up. It sat on the bathroom counter for a day or two, I just had such a strong check in my spirit, I couldn’t take it. God was nudging me toward another pregnancy test, I just didn’t want to take it. It was going to be negative, we didn’t need another baby right now, I didn’t have the time to wrestle another boy, I was tired. Pregnancy is difficult and painful and I just didn’t have it left in me at the moment. I still didn’t take that pill. I took a test instead.
It was positive.
Shock is so mild a word. I called my doctor’s office and asked them what the heck I was supposed to do now, I was NOT supposed to be pregnant. I didn’t trust the test. The nurse had me come in for blood tests, for three weeks I came in and had levels checked. I was, in fact, pregnant, and the baby was growing strong. When I finally got to see my doc (dh came with me, we really were in shock!) she cried tears of joy which was such a welcome reaction. We weren’t ready to let the world in on our little secret, I just couldn’t take the ugliness. We had to have joy.
We decided to tell our kiddos at Easter. We put an egg in each basket with a little plastic baby in it and a tag saying “coming Nov 2014”. It was such a sweet way to let them know we were getting a new member of the family, we really enjoyed sharing it with them. We were a bit worried that the news would keep our oldest from entering a convent in the fall as she had started planning to do, but she assured us that she could be just as happy to have a new sibling there as at home and she would be okay. It’s an odd thing to be pregnant and have an adult child at the same time. So many things to balance, such different ways to parent each of them. There are no rules or guides, you just muddle through to the best of your ability.
We laughed, then, at how much God wanted our little peanut to be here, His voice was so loud to me, when I thought about taking that medication. We were so proud of ourselves that we had actually listened to His voice, and our sweet little one was still in my womb, safe and growing.