Wednesday, December 3, 2014

An Overdue Update, Part 2: Finding Out

In case you missed it, here is Update 1.

I woke before my alarm up snuggled in Jon's arms with the chilly morning air drifting in through the window. It seems that Fall had arrived in the past 5 days or so, with the heat of August giving way to the refreshing September cool. There is simply nothing like being snuggled up with Jon for warmth under a fluffy pile of freshly washed sheets and blankets. My alarm was going to beep in 2 minutes, so I just laid there half asleep and breathing deeply the glory of that time.

I reached over to take my basal temperature, as I have done nearly every morning for about 4 and a half years. It beeped and I checked the screen. Immediately, my eyes grew wide. It read at the highest temperature I had ever recorded, and I knew that my temperature was somewhat high the day previous as well. My mind started to race, thinking of the possibilities, of being pregnant, of... leaving tomorrow for 2 weeks. While lying in bed, I made the decision to use my last remaining pregnancy test that morning rather than the next when I left. I figured at best, I could have more time to celebrate with Jon in person. I was still 4 days early, so I wasn't hopeful for any good results.

When Jon got up to go shower, I snuck in behind him, grabbed the test out of the bathroom, and hurried to the guest bathroom. A quick second guess was dismissed as I ripped open the package. Too late now. As I washed my hands, I kept glancing back at the little blinking hour glass on the screen. Wait. Wait. Wait. I sat down and waited some more. It seemed to be taking longer than previous tests to display something. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Deep breath. Exhale. I shook my hands frantically and paced back and forth a little. OK OK OK.

I stared at it some more, just to make sure it was real, then put it back in its package. What do I do now? I make coffee and Jon's lunch, of course. Ok. Do I tell him yet? No, not yet. He won't be able to focus at school if I do. Make myself coffee. Wait, can I even have coffee? No? Just wait for now. OHMYGOSH.

For the next few minutes, I fumble with the food in the kitchen. Jon walked in, handsome as always. I wanted to tell him, but I knew that it was not the right time yet. Wait. Wait. Wait. I felt crazy. He notices I am a bit frazzled and asks if I am ok. I said "I feel kind of crazy this morning... do you feel crazy? I feel crazy". He responds with a funny look and says "Nope... bye!"

Once he is down the driveway, I let out a loud combination of a huff and a squeal and even jumped about a little bit because I didn't know what to do with myself. I decided to wash some dishes to try to calm down. I told myself "there is nothing to do about it right now, no action point at 6:45am. Just relax." Yeah, right.

Jon has always worn Vans shoes since he was a little boy. When we first started dating, his family insisted I get a pair and bought me some for Christmas. Jon and his groomsmen even wore Vans in our wedding. Ever since, I have joked with Jon that if I ever got pregnant, I would buy a pair of baby Vans and leave them somewhere for him to find as means of breaking the news.

I make mental plans to go and buy a pair of baby vans at the mall. Freak out. Shake. Breathe. Pray.

I finally settled down enough to go and do my morning devotional. It was so pointed and perfect for that morning. The Word of God is precious. We are gifted what is Christ's. He knows us and our inner workings. He knows me. He knows my baby. That is a powerful thought. Praise God, for he has worked a miracle. Praise God, for he knows the day and hour. Praise God, for he could calm my ridiculously-crazy-freaking-out brain right then and replace it with peace.

I borrowed a friend's car, drove to the mall, and bought the shoes. Then I even found a cheesy yet adorable shirt at Target for our dog Mac that read: "World's #1 Bro". Perfect. At this point, it became nearly impossible to focus on work with a pair of tiny shoes in my house. I tried to focus my energy on packing for my trip. Then the phone rang.

My dad called. He informed me that my grandmother had taken a turn for the worse, and the whole family was reuniting in Boston that weekend to say our farewells. I had known that she was ill, but she had seemed to be doing better. This hit me like a sucker-punch in the gut.

Since my impending travel plans had me flying into DC and taking a train down to Richmond, we decided that it made more sense for my Dad to drive up to DC and pick me up on his way to Boston, then drive to Richmond on Monday for my work conference. All this new information competed in my brain for attention. I fell onto my bed and prayed. I was so thankful when it neared time for Jon to come home from school.

Mac loves Jon. Really, really loves him. Without fail, Mac barks and bounds up to him every time he comes home. With a wagging tail and endless prancing, he displays his affection in the most perfect and loyal way of which only a dog is capable. For this reason, I decided to break the precious news to Jon with Mac. I put him in the new shirt and tied the baby shoes around his collar. We never put clothes on him, but I think he could sense my excitement because he didn't seem to mind.

When Jon walked in the door after school, he was greeted with this:

Jon just stared for a second, then a grin slowly spread across his face and turned into an ear-to-ear beaming smile. He started jumping up and down and hugged me so tight, then pulled back and with teary-eyes asked so sweetly "so... you mean I'm going to be a daddy?!"

We spent the evening celebrating together, told a couple of our closest friends, and fixed a big fancy dinner together. We savored every moment of it, because the next morning, I left for 2 weeks. Saying goodbye was so much harder after such a wonderful evening.

The next morning, I hopped on a plane for Washington, DC. The time alone on the plane gave me time to really reflect on the fact that this first leg of my trip was already cut short and for such a grave and sobering reason. I began to wonder if I would even make it to Boston in time to say goodbye to my grandmother before she passed. Time felt so short.

To be continued in update #3...

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