i had a baby already.
i was 25, and while my friends enjoyed freedom and the single life, i had spent the last 17 months sacrificing myself for another human being (9 prego, 8 caring for baby).
Prego days were spent draped over the porcelain throne. The months after baby's birth were spent in trauma! Trauma over the tire-tread that now resided on my non-existent waistline, trauma over the reality that i had somehow gained employment as a dairy-cow (nursing 24/7), trama over sleep-deprivation and fear that i would be indefinitely nocturnal, colic trama, checkbook trama, and driving a station wagon trauma (which as you know is the stepping stone to driving a mini-van trauma).
i absolutely did not want to do any of it again for a looonnnnnnngggg time.
On January 3rd, 1999, despite being on the pill and nursing the pregnancy test read +.
"i can't do this. i'm not ready," i cried as i fell to the ground with uncontrollable tears.
i thought God was out of his mind.
Ready or not, here she comes.
Emilie was born 6 months later (at 32 weeks).
The following months as Mommy to Noah and Emilie were exhausting and WONDER-FULL. God revealed to me that He had been generous in giving them to me. My babies were both my joy and my loves."Emilie Day." You would have heard me saying, "if i had known then what i know now i would have celebrated!"
i promised God that i would CELEBRATE His generosity in choosing me to be a mommy in the future. i promised myself that i would not rob myself of that joy again, but cherish every moment.
Just a few days before Emilie's 1st birthday, draped over the porcelain throne again, i waited for the results of a store bought pregnancy test...