secrets

I trust that if you're reading this, you're either an old friend or a distant, new friend I haven't met yet.  Either way, friend, I have to confide in you.

I'm pregnant.

It's my third time.

Have you ever been here?  Staring down a familiar road that didn't end well the last time you traveled it?  Trying to balance sheer uncontrollable joy and deep, nagging, hairy fear?  I got really quickly attached to Eli (did I mention that we named him Eli?) in a way that didn't happen with our first pregnancy, because until baby girl was born, it didn't seem real that she was an actual person.  But then, suddenly, there she was, with a fierce personality and actual fingernails and hair and everything changed.  We fell in love.  So when we got pregnant a second time, we were geared up from the start.  Another child!  We started talking to him right away, making space for him, praying for him together at night.

When his heart stopped beating, it felt like mine did too.  But life goes on.  My body healed, and I started fitting back into my normal jeans, and I stopped starting and ending every day wishing I could go back and ask for a re-do.

So, this week I felt a little bizarre. Irritable.  Breaking out.  Plus, lets not lie, I've been obsessed with my body's return to normal since all this happened, and I suspected although my hormones are still a little crazy, that I might be nearing my period.  So I checked, and yes ma'am, two nice, obvious pink lines.

I'm waiting for my husband to get home to tell him.  And I think this time, instead of screaming, jumping up and down, having a celebratory dinner...I think we'll sit together in the dark, on the floor, and pray.  Thanking God for new life, that He is the Author of it all, and that He gives and takes away.  Blessed be His holy name.