My Husband Knew I Was Pregnant before I Did

I just knew I was pregnant. For days, I had been experiencing symptoms. Then, Kate sent me a link. She didn’t know that I suspected I was pregnant. When I asked her if she was trying to tell us something, she replied that she was just giving me some expectations now that EK was getting to the age for me to get pregnant again. She thinks she’s funny.

As I read the post, I was checking things off in my head, with the hormones reference resounding most deeply, further confirming what I believed to be true. I still didn’t share my thoughts with anyone except Stephen, who had to regularly hear me say, “I’ve got to be pregnant.” We talked about life with a third baby, three under three. We were going through all the emotions, prepping for the positive pregnancy test I would take in a few days.

Friday, January 27^th came so slowly. I anxiously took the pregnancy test and stared, hard, for three minutes anticipating the second line, the one that never appeared. No matter how I held up the test in the light or squinted, it was negative. How could I have been wrong? I spent the next week wondering what was the matter with me if I wasn’t pregnant, asking why I couldn’t wake up in the mornings and was exhausted during the day, even when I was clocking a tight 8 hours each night. I honestly questioned if I was depressed and just didn’t realize it as my hormones raged and exhaustion gripped my body each morning as I literally staggered out of our bedroom while only desiring sleep.

Saturday, February 4^th, was the day everything changed. I took a nap that afternoon, and it was one of those naps where you wake up with drool all over the pillow. As I wiped my wet face, I realized I had passed out without turning on the fan for noise. I can never fall asleep without the fan drowning out the cars I can hear driving on the main highway near our house. It was then that I decided to call Stephen and ask if he could pick up another pregnancy test on his way home from running some errands just to ease my mind about the negative result from the week before.

Around 3:30, I took the test. It didn’t turn positive right away like the tests did when I was pregnant with J and EK, so I just crawled back into bed, pulled the covers over myself, and tried to fall back asleep. Stephen, on the other hand, waited the appropriate three minutes and went to check. As I’m attempting to drift off, he asks, “Is this a second line? If so, it’s really faint, but I think that’s another line, unless my eyes are playing tricks on me.” When I registered what he was saying, I screamed, “What?” as I threw off the covers and almost broke my neck trying to get into the bathroom. (It seems to be becoming a trend for others to know I am pregnant before I do.)

My initial reaction was to ugly cry while saying, “That’s a line. That’s a line, and you know it” in a tone that sounded as if I was accusing Stephen of deliberately trying to play a trick on me. He just hugged me and let me sob on his shoulders as the weight of a third child hit me. Unlike the week before, I hadn’t prepared for a positive result. But I was also relieved that there was an explanation for the extreme fatigue and my terrible attitude fueled by my rapidly changing hormones.

It was a difficult journey trying to become parents the first time, so I assumed it would be hard each time. Lord willing, we will have three under three in October, and I am thankful He is abundantly blessing us quickly. I know people who struggle for years to conceive once and experience pain again and again and others who have lost their precious little ones. I don’t want my pregnancies to cause heartache in the lives of people I know and love, and I want to mourn with those who mourn. I am currently trying to stumble my way through how to rejoice in the gifts God has given us while being sensitive to those who are hurting. The very real fear of losing this baby or my older kids can cripple me at times, so I share our news of expecting our third child to implore you to pray for us and our children. Please pray the Lord’s will be done and for our trust in Him to be firm in all circumstances. I wholly believe He is able to sustain my life, Stephen’s life, and the lives of all three of our kids, but even if He doesn’t, pray that I wouldn’t waver for He is good. 

That Time I Had a Stomach Bug on Christmas Eve

Facebook cares about me, so this past Christmas Eve I was reminded of something I posted the previous year. I thought I had food poisoning, so I asked people to pray for me as I had been sick the whole day. [Thanks?? I mean, who wouldn’t want to look back on a full 24 hours of, well, you know.]

I was about two months pregnant at the time, and Stephen and I had gone out for dinner the night before to celebrate his birthday. I thought my burger had turned against me when I woke up queasy in the early morning hours on Christmas Eve. I spent the whole day, well, you know. [Side story, I contracted a stomach bug during my first pregnancy and did have to get an IV because I got dehydrated. That’s why I asked people to pray that I would stop getting sick. I really didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve with an IV in my arm.]

Still under the impression that the burger was the culprit, I texted Lori, my amazing and supportive midwife. She didn’t hesitate to come over with a couple of natural remedies in tow to try to help my body be able to keep food and drink down more quickly. Y’all, she is awesome. I still can’t believe that she came to our house on Christmas Eve. Lori, if you read this, I’m still sorry that I unknowingly exposed you to a stomach virus the day before Christmas, and I’m so thankful you didn’t catch it.

Like every important moment in life, there was a line from a song by Lecrae that I kept replaying in my head as I got sick. In his song “Boasting,” a section stuck out to me. 

“God has never been obligated to give us life. If we fought for our rights, we'd be in hell tonight. Mere sinners owed nothing but a fierce hand. We never loved him, we pushed away his pierced hands. I rejected his love, grace, kindness, and mercy. Dying of thirst, yet, willing to die thirsty. Eternally worthy, how could I live for less? Patiently you turned my heart away from selfishness. I volunteer for your sanctifying surgery. I know the Spirit's purging me of everything that's hurting me.”

Each time my body seemed to betray me by expelling the liquids I consumed, I had to remind myself that it is actually good that my body was attempting to purge me of the wretched food poisoning (since that’s what I thought it was at the time). I couldn’t help but meditate on the line “I know the Spirit's purging me of everything that's hurting me” as I thought about how growing in holiness and putting to death the deeds of the body is painful as God’s Spirit works in me to purge me of the sin that brings death. The Lord was near and good to me in those hours, granting me joy and thankfulness in the midst of undesirable circumstances. I had a husband who took care of me, a midwife supporting me, and my friend Kate praying for me and holding my hand. I felt the Lord’s presence through the people He put around me who encouraged me and loved me when I looked less than lovely.

“So, how did you discover it was a stomach bug and not food poisoning?” I know that’s what you’re thinking. I may have given Stephen and Brantley and Kate's kids an additional present that manifested itself on Christmas Day. Again, I am so very sorry for sharing my stomach bug with you Stephen, Kate, Brantley, and Lori. You guys are all amazing!