A road once traveled.

We weren't gonna tell. We were going to keep it secret. But here's the things with bottling things up inside for me. I begin to feel like a bottle of soda, half full, shaken with no where for the explosive carbonation to go. The only way to get rid of the pressure of that bottle, is to twist the cap and slowly release what is kept on the inside.

May 25th, 2011 my alarm woke me up as it does every morning. I couldn't wait any longer. I jumped out of bed and rushed to the down stairs bathroom, and ripped open the foil like packaging. Instantly, two blue lines crossed each other. I was finally staring at a positive pregnancy test, that I have been waiting for, for what seems like years. Even though it really hasn't been that long.

I took the test up to my husband, and once again made him look at a home pregnancy test through half groggy eyes. In denial, he wouldn't believe it unless I took a digital pregnancy test. {Men, they have to see everything in black and white.} So after taking Sarah to school, I stopped at the grocery store and bought the fancy digital pregnancy tests.

"Pregnant." 

There was the clear answer he was looking for. And he finally believed it. I believe that this is the baby that we have been waiting so long for... the baby that isn't just born into our hearts, but into our home as well.

The past few days, I cannot help but think about the day of Savannah's birth. How I couldn't wait to hold her, touch her, breathe her in. In an instant, truly an instant, Savannah was gone. I picture the day of this baby's birth. I have overwhelming feelings about it. I've birthed children before. But I have never birthed a child after birthing a child that was stripped from my arms. As Savannah laid there at the end of my bed, I said outloud, "it's a girl." In fear that she would possibly be a "pink wearing" boy. This time I cannot even imagine that being on my mind.

Pushing might be a terrifying moment, one that will require ever ounce of strength I have to get through. "Just breathe. Please just breathe. Fill your lungs with precious life. Breathe!" And even though that day is a long nine months away from us, just thinking about holding another brings tears to my eyes. Even as I type this. For anyone in witness to his or her upcoming birth, they will be experiencing the most beautiful and heartbreaking moment a life could endure. The happiness of life, the tears of a longing. Because without a doubt in my mind, our next child will be born into tears. Savannah, though her life was tragic, was born into laughter. It was meant to be. Happiness and laughter just for her. This baby though, this baby will bring tears to everyone in the room. I think there is a chance that even Savannah's doctor might well up with tears.

Tears of joy. Tears of sorrow.

Tears of life. Tears of death.

{Don't judge! This after all is my fifth pregnancy!}

 

February 1st, 2012.

250 days and counting...