Part 1: Everythings fine…right?
I was going through some old boxes the other day, and found needles and a bottle of pills. While this sounds a little like something you would find in dark alleys with rainy awnings, the locating of these items made me cry. They were my old tools. Tools like a carpenter would use to build something of worth. And in my case, a human. Humans don’t just happen overnight. Sometimes they take years. Five, to be exact.
I got married a little later in life, age 32 and 31 respectively. We had decided because of our age that we would try to have a family right away. There is, after all, no time like the present. Both Andy and I had good jobs, a newly remodeled home and no reason to wait. You know the old equation: boy meets girl, boy and girl get married, boy and girl want to have children, and BAM…baby! All our ducks were in a row so it would be as easy as taking a trip through the drive-thru. “One baby please, and make it snappy!” We apparently picked the slow lane.
Month after month, nothing. Nada, zip, zilch. Anytime I felt a little off, I’d run to the drugstore to get a pregnancy test. I never saw even a sliver of a plus sign. I hated math growing up but I never wanted to see a plus sign more. Time went on. And on. And on. We spent $10 a month on pregnancy tests. And then at least another $20 in fatty snacks to feed our confused emotions. Our prayers became more specific and focused. I oddly felt alone. The comfort of the Holy Ghost seemed far and just out of arms reach. I had served as a young missionary where I learned all too well that sometimes we have to wait on the Lord. However, I felt like I had waited long enough for a very noble request. I was tired of waiting. A year could only mean one thing…problems. I kept my worries to myself that there may be something wrong with either of us, although I secretly blamed Andy and his tight pants worn in the 80’s. We had decided if it didn’t happen after the first year we would seek medical advice.
image courtesy yourbabyboyandgirl.com
We had now been married over a year. We celebrated, and hoped that the next year would be our year! I was serving in the youth program of our church, where all the leaders were pregnant –and I mean all of them. Not a flat stomach in the bunch. I figured if I stood close to them and hugged their bellies, the good baby mojo would rub off and I’d be complaining about stretch marks and tight pants in no time. I joyed in their experience hoping that in a matter of time it would be mine as well. I tried to not be bitter or angry at their good fortune. Some days it was hard. I wanted to look the other way when they walked in the room, feeling if we made eye contact I would turn into a blubbering pile of goo. Crawling under a rock sounded like the best plan I could come up with until I could go forth proudly proclaiming we were “great with child.”
After a few more months it was summer. Summer brought warmer breezes, kayaking nights and an appointment to the OB for later in the month. On the 4th of July we found ourselves at a friends beach house enjoying decadent food and good company. We played with our friend’s children in the water, roasted marshmallows and held cold little bodies with blankets to keep them warm. We made our way home with sunburns, happy hearts and full stomachs.
The next morning I called my friend and asked, “Did anyone else get food poisoning last night?” She checked with all the guests. No one else had gotten it but me.
Tried & True: Don’t waste your money on expensive pregnancy tests; the cheap ones are just as accurate and you can save your pennies for chocolate to keep you sane through the process.