Three years ago, my body did the impossible- it gave birth to a live, healthy baby. She wasn’t miscarried at 12 weeks like my first pregnancy. She wasn’t stillborn at 33 weeks like my second pregnancy. She was alive and screaming and full of life, and still is, something I will never take for granted.

After Elise’s birth, my husband and I made the decision that we were done having children. I didn’t have the energy to go through the long process to conceive. I wasn’t interested in nine months of worrying and wondering and doubt. I definitely wasn’t strong enough to battle the postpartum depression that was sure to hit, and spend a year of my life where, every day, I was buried in my own mental deficiencies.

I was tired. I AM tired.

It was quite the surprise then, in the middle of selling our house and then trying to buy one in a sellers’ market, and pack, and coordinate settlements, and potty-train my daughter, and travel for work, and constantly yell NOTHING CAN BREAK BECAUSE WE’VE ALREADY HAD OUR BUYERS DO THEIR HOME INSPECTION SO STOP TOUCHING THAT, I got a positive pregnancy test.

I don’t get positive pregnancy tests. And, if I do, I lose babies.

I told one co-worker what I was doing before I took the test. I texted her from the bathroom, and I told her I needed her. I was sobbing. She took me outside, handed me my purse and laptop, hugged me. She told me to go home.

I cried off and on for the next few days. I was surprised, shocked, panicked, and confused. I don’t think “happy” or “elated” was in the mix.

For years, this is all I wanted. I talk to women every day who want nothing more than what was shown to me, in a work bathroom stall on a Thursday morning. Not being immediately elated about a rainbow pregnancy after years of begging for one destroyed me with guilt.

Flash forward a week. We learned an offer we made on a house had been accepted. Things were starting to fall into place. A lot of the instabilities in my life were suddenly becoming stable again. For the first time, a little joy crept in. I am pregnant. I am pregnant!  I told a few close friends. Everyone was surprised–and happy. I let myself feel some of that. It felt good.

I’ve finished my first trimester. I am relaxed, calm, and excited to be pregnant again. I’m looking forward to another little person in my house. I can’t wait to tell my daughter that her little brother or sister is in the next room instead of heaven.

Absorbing surprise is different for everyone, and feelings can change over time. All of this is allowed, and my heart and mind are open to this wonderful gift that is true proof of what happens when you’re busy making plans.

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