* Brothers and Dads - You should skip reading this one. *
I don't think anyone really reads my blog anymore - except the family that I force to by sending it via email - but I wanted to take a moment to record a little about this pregnancy.
We decided we wanted to try one last time for a little girl as Ethan was giving up nursing the middle of November. I realized I was a day or so late on Christmas, but I waited to buy a test. Then, even after buying the test, I was terrified to take it.
At that point I would have been 5 weeks along, and I have always started throwing up at 6 weeks on the dot. Three boys keep me very busy, and they take a lot of energy. I could not fathom another pregnancy with my already full plate. Before actually knowing the result, I decided that if the test was negative, it was a huge blessing and that we would be a happy family with just our three boys. We would not try anymore.
But, miracle of all miracles, I got pregnant the first month! (It took us a full year to conceive C, and six months with E.) The test was positive. I was quite the mixture of emotions going to bed that night. It was Friday night, Dec 26th. I felt like a ticking time bomb. In fact, I called a photographer the next morning - our 11th anniversary - and scheduled a family photo session for that coming week. I knew I only had a few days of being myself left before I entered death-mode, and we had never done official family photos as a family of five. That night we talked a lot about how we were going to survive yet another 9 months of weak, sick, sleepy, fatigued, puking Lindsey. Please don't hear me wrong. We wanted to have another baby; we just didn't want to have another pregnancy (ie: sick, sick, sick, tired mommy).
On Monday night for Family Home Evening, we nervously told the boys we were having another baby. I was TERRIFIED they would be so upset (they know how busy mom gets when I have a baby to nurse and naps to take, and they remember the scarring noises of my gagging and puking), but (another miracle!) they actually were excited. We did a lesson from January's Friend about being God's hands through service. Each of the boys traced their hand and wrote how they'd help mom when she was sick with the baby in her tummy.
And then, on my six-week mark, we got our family pictures taken. And then I waited for the inevitable...
And then it didn't happen.
I didn't get sick. I got four stomach viruses (Brennan's had a rough year at preschool) where I had vomiting and diarrhea for 12-36 hours, but each time I was able to get better and return to caring for the kids. MIRACLE! I have been just as tired this time around, but it has been manageable because I haven't also been throwing up all the time.
Fast forward to 24-weeks. I know this seems strange, but I think the only explanation is that pregnant Lindsey isn't made ill by female fetuses. I got sick each month of birth control (on non-pill forms). I was sick for virtually my entire pregnancy with each of the boys (20 weeks with C, 24 weeks with B, 32 weeks with E)... And somehow I am not sick this time around. I can think of no other biological explanation.
The other explanation is without question attributed to my faith. It has been a huge blessing to be well this time around. Ethan and our baby girl will only be 22 months apart. Ethan started walking AFTER we found out we were expecting, and he is definitely as curious, busy and mischievous as Brennan was. He definitely keeps me on my toes. But that's a post of another day...
I guess this is a post about God's blessings. He knows our needs. He knows our desires. He wishes to bless us. We are super excited for our last little one. We feel like our family will now be complete.
