It was so easy the first time, speaking of the first time I got pregnant. I was only 18 years old, and very naive. I just knew in my head that it wouldn't happen to me, so I didn't ever think about it. I had never had a regular period, so missing a few months was normal for me. Finally, I started having the morning sickness... and my belly began to pooch! I was already 3 months pregnant before I even took a test. Even after I took the test and got the positive... I didn't want to believe it. I kept thinking... this is a hoax... until I heard the heartbeat at the doctor's office the first time. This baby that I didn't pray for and definitely didn't need or deserve was in my belly. I was going to be the mother to a baby that I didn't work to get. My brother and his wife had been trying and praying and worrying over having a child, and I did nothing and ended up pregnant anyway. I didn't even want to tell them about my pregnancy, because I felt guilty. They were grown adults, getting older, ready to be parents, had been married for several years, and had a home for a child. What did I have... I had just finished my freshman year of college, where I did poorly because I partied too much, and I lost my full-ride. I had just moved out of the dorms and in with my dad and step mother. I stayed in a room in their house that wasn't really even mine... and I was about to bring a child into this world. I had a job that my parents graciously helped me get. I had become the epitome of the person I never wanted or thought I could be.
Those were my feelings from 6 years ago. That is how I felt at 18. I had no business having a child... I wasn't ready, but I knew that I would be ready when he made it here. I knew that I would have my life on track, and I would do this on my own. I never got to finish out that story, because it was cut short when I was 26 weeks pregnant. If I could have made it another month... maybe the story would still be going, but that didn't happen. I have to stop thinking about the "what if's".
So, 6 years later... I have a totally different mindset. I am now praying for a child, praying for a miracle to happen to me again. I am missing my son that I only got to hold for a short time, and continue to wish he was here with me. Every night when my husband and I sit down to eat dinner, we pray for God to bless us with a child. I wake up every morning hoping for a sign that it is going to happen, and I think about what we will name that baby if it is a boy or a girl. How will I decorate the nursery? Should we try and buy a house before the child comes? Wait... I am getting ahead of myself.
There is no baby coming. There are too many things wrong in our effort to conceive a child. Not only do I have some reproductive issues, but now we know that my husband does as well. He will have more tests done in a few weeks, but from the results that he got on Friday, I have a feeling that these next results couldn't be any worse.. because these first results were so bad.
I was blessed with a child I never prayed to have... and now, every day I pray for one for my husband and I so that we can complete our family, and it just won't happen. Ever since we have been together, we have been welcome to the idea of a child, and we have never used contraception. That means that for over 4 years... nothing. I can't help but cry, because our dream of having children together seems to have been shattered. We continue to talk about adopting a child, but the expenses are insane... and as selfish as it sounds, I desperately want to be pregnant again and prove to myself that I am a good mom and I can carry a child to term. I want to go through the whole process again and have a better outcome.
I know there are lots of other options to get pregnant...but we don't have the money for that... well we do, but then we wouldn't have the money to take care of a baby once it got here.
So, I have to remind myself that God does perform miracles, and I am praying for one to happen.
No comments:
Post a Comment