It was a calm and beautiful September morning. The windows were open and a slight breeze swept through the house. Finally, fall was on its way. John was busy cleaning, as was his usual saturday morning ritual.
I casually breezed by and dropped the pregnancy test on the counter where he stood.
I was a bit nervous and started to cover my face with my hands.
"What does this mean?", he asked.
Now, he knew full well what this meant. It was not my custom to show him failed pregnancy tests. I think he was just trying to buy some time, which made me even more nervous.
He looked at my face and finally said, "well, I think it's wonderful!"
Relief swept over my mind, but not my body.The rest of the day was a blur of shock and I was literally shaking all day. I had that wild feeling of a million butterflies in my stomach. I was excited, almost overjoyed, but could not wrap my mind around the possibility of 4 kids. It seemed unreal.
It was not long before Mr. Nausea came a-knocking at my door. It was so forceful, it took my appetite away. I could not eat or drink anything. I would just walk around the house with an ugly grimace on my face. I did not even realize I was making such faces until I caught an occassional glimse in the mirror. I felt bad that my boys had to look at me like this. Finally, I realized that I would have to call the dr.'s office for some zofran, which is an anti-nausea medication. Although the zofran does nothing to take my nausea away, I am able to eat and drink without throwing up. For this, I am thankful.
My exhaustion is just as bad as my nausea, and so the couch has become my new best friend. Each morning, I drag myself out of bed, just so I can drag myself to the couch. Somehow I am able to feed the boys breakfast and I am very grateful each day that God gives me the grace to do this. Even though I feel crummy, I am so happy to see 3 bright shiny faces each morning.
The next few weeks were a blur of Nemo-Ice Age-Nemo-Monster's Inc-Nemo. Despite the blur of my life, I was determined to remember Ollie's every little mannerism and facial feature. Sometimes I just sit and stare at his profile and memorize his hands, his feet, his little voice...everything.
Finn kept begging me to play soccer with him. He deserved an explanation as to why his mother was so pathetic.
"There's a baby in mommy's belly", I told him.
"Oh", he said, his eyes wide. "Is it a girl baby or a boy baby?", he questioned.
"We don't know yet, honey", I replied. "It's too small to know".
"Well, I think it's very exciting!", he said.
Finn really has been my life-saver. When Ollie gets up from his nap, sometimes Finn brings him his sippy with milk and climbs in his pack-and-play, reading him a story. I once heard him say, "It's ok, Finny's here".
And even more amazingly, Ollie has been sleeping-in every day til 9 and napping from almost 1-5. He is done teething, for now, and has become quite the chipper and independent little ragamuffin. All my boys look like rug-rats right now, and I am too sick to care.
I finally worked up the nerve to tell my parents. I was going on 7 weeks and did not want to worry them unnecessarily. I knew they would be concerned, since this would be my 4th c-section. My mom called that night and I cautiously spilled my news. Mom was shocked and concerned about the the c-section, but overall took the news very well.
Dad was a bit more shaken up and called back saying "You just don't understand how scary it is to watch your daughters have babies", he said. He was right. I did not know what it was like.
That night, I panicked a bit. What was I doing? Then I remembered a few things. Like how I asked my doctor, a few months ago, if it was ok to have a 4th c-section. We went over my surgery reports and she said that everything would be ok. And of course, I was comforted by the fact that I had been praying about this before I got pregnant. I was in God's hands. Still, I slept with my bible under my pillow that night:)
Two days later, after a long, hard day of nausea, I got up from the couch and walked to the bathroom. And saw blood. Dark red blood.