“Do you want to know what you’re having?” Kristen, the ultrasound tech, asked me. Jerry, Ezra, and I sat in a dark room in the radiology department and looked at the black and white image of the little baby I’m carrying.

“Yes!” I answered immediately. I couldn’t handle not finding out when I knew the option was available. Everyone seemed to be predicting it would be a boy. A little brother for Ezra. That would be best, practically speaking. We only have two bedrooms and he could use hand me downs from his brother, etc. Jerry and I tried not to hope too much for a girl when any baby at all was such a surprise blessing. It almost felt ungrateful to hope for a daughter when we were being given such a gift as this pregnancy.

“It’s a girl!” said Kristen a short time later. So overwhelming. She handed me a tissue and murmured something about enjoying “happy tears.”

That was my daughter on the screen.

We went out for lunch to celebrate on that cold, snowy day. Afterwards I went into a little thrift shop and had way more fun buying a bag full of tiny pink items than the $9 they cost.

So all through this cold January I’ve been dreaming in pink and feeling my little one stirring around. It has been an odd mix of euphoria and terror. It seems like I recall and hear every single story of a stillbirth or miscarriage or freak pregnancy happening that there is. Before my ultrasound I was nervous because I heard two stories of mothers with the extremely rare circumstance of babies developing without kidneys. I breathed a sigh of relief when Kristen located babies kidneys and remarked on her beautiful heart. Every time I feel baby girl moving I pray for her wellbeing and protection. I’m so much more aware of how little control I have than I would have been had this pregnancy happened 10 years ago when I was a newlywed. Taking things a day at a time is helpful. Every time I take my prenatals, go to a doctor’s appointment, or progress to a new week in my pregnancy, I’m thankful.

And baby girl names and clothes are pretty much the most fun hobby ever.

I recently finished the Anne of Green Gables series for the umpteenth time. In the final book there is a line about a character saying that the person involved “never got excited over anything, and so missed a tremendous amount of trouble and delight in her journey through life.”

I think there’s a lot of wisdom in that. Sometimes I think I get borderline preachy when I blog so I won’t go on, but in a way at 32 I feel so far removed from who I was when I used to read Anne of Green Gables at 15 that I can’t quite believe we’re the same person. A lot of the changes have been for the better, but I do miss looking at the world unsuspectingly and assuming the best would happen. And being spontaneous. Since little kids do better with routine and warning usually, that goal might have to go away for awhile.

Being pregnant is so different from adopting and so much the same. The tears came in the same way on the day when I knew Ezra would be our son. The crazy fears and prayers for his welfare were the same. But the waiting is so much easier in pregnancy because I know that it’s best for baby girl to be born when she’s ready. I get to keep her close and not wonder if she’s being treated kindly or not. And since I’ve had an easy pregnancy as far as symptoms go, I think adoption was way more difficult so far.

Here’s to the end of January’s cold gloominess and the rosy hopes of springtime!

Happy 2019! I always send Christmas cards, and for the last few years I have written Christmas letters with an overview of our year, but this time?

Nope. This time around I was a mom.

Jerry, Ezra, and our nephew have birthdays in December, and that along with the usual holidays totally ruined my visions of cards and letters. I’ve always wanted to be more minimalist though. So maybe this is a good place to start? Thinking on it.

Did you read Ezra’s shirt? Oh my goodness, if you didn’t, please do.

Are you wondering if we are adopting again? Some people assumed that’s what it meant. Honestly we really planned to adopt again. But no, this time things are happening the old-fashioned way.

The day after my birthday in October I was feeling like gagging around coffee, so I took a pregnancy test. Then I went into the bedroom to finish putting away the laundry because I pretty much had zero hopes for a pregnancy. I thought “I feel like it’s negative…” and then immediately I corrected my own thought and told myself “it doesn’t matter what you feel like, it matters what’s true.” I heard a psychologist on the radio talking about how you have to tell yourself the truth and so I have been working on that…but that’s a rabbit trail.

After the allotted processing time, I walked back into the bathroom and glanced at the cheap test on the counter. It had two lines.

I had never seen one with two lines. For a beat I just stared. Then I began wondering how someone could get a false positive. The doctor said this would likely never happen. We waited for Ezra for almost 8 years…

I tried to pray and ask for guidance and if it was true, but I mostly just started half sentences that trailed off into oblivion. I didn’t know what else to do, Jerry was at work and I wasn’t telling him over the phone, so I took Ezra for a walk. When I got home I scheduled a doctor’s appointment. Thankfully we live in a small town and I worked for the hospital, so the woman at the OB office got me an appointment only a few days away.

When Jerry got home I didn’t have a Pinterest worthy way to tell him the news because I never expected to need one. He was going around putting his things away after work and teasing Ezra and not really noticing my odd expression, so finally I just said, ” I need you to focus for a minute.”

He said, “On what?”

“Come with me.”

I lead him into the bathroom and pointed at the test still sitting out on the counter. He stared for a moment and said something like “wait…” I gestured at the instructions on how to read the result.

Jerry just gave an odd laugh and we both stared at each other. It definitely wasn’t the weeping  movie moment I had imagine once if a pregnancy ever happened for us.

At my appointment a few days later they did an ultrasound and confirmed that I hadn’t gotten a false positive. There really was a baby.

That Saturday we told my family at an early Thanksgiving dinner. My sister in law’s parents were visiting from China and my mom wanted to do American Thanksgiving for them and us since we went to Jerry’s parent’s this year. It gave me the perfect opportunity to tell my parents and siblings all at once. Needless to say there was much rejoicing. Xin’s dad, who doesn’t speak English, told her to tell me that “Ezra brought the blessing” of my pregnancy. Such a sweet comment. I am telling you so I can remember and reflect.

Over the next few weeks we told closer family and friends, and then took these pictures once I hit 14 weeks along to announce the news on social media. I still can’t believe it really. Tomorrow we find out if the baby is a boy or a girl and it still hasn’t completely sunk in! I’m overwhelmed.

Other people sharing the joy has been wonderful, but a few people have said things along the lines of ” I knew it,” or “this happens after people adopt all the time.” While I have heard those stories as well, I have also read of and spoken to numerous people who did not have biological children after adopting. I have multiple friends that are going through infertility and comments like that frustrate me because getting pregnant is never a given. Jerry and I are so happy to be expecting but I have cried at enough pregnancy announcements to know that one person’s joy can trigger another person’s sorrow. So please, if that is you, I have no words of wisdom for you, but I can tell you that I know how you feel. Our unborn baby is a gift from God and we didn’t do anything to deserve him or her. God creates all babies and you are not undeserving or unworthy of this blessing. I don’t know God’s plan, but I do know that He loves you just as much as He does me.

Being pregnant also brings up a lot of thoughts of Ezra’s birth mother and what she must have been thinking and feeling when she was at this stage in her pregnancy. It makes me look at him and think that his birth mother should be seeing the beautiful, intelligent little boy that is my son. In a perfect world, mama’s would always raise their babies. I love Ezra more than ever, but pregnancy reminds me that adoption comes out of brokenness, as they say. We are so blessed to have our son, but I wish he didn’t have hard issues to face. Our bio baby will be blessed to  not wonder so much about his or her origins. I wish I could offer that to Ezra as well.

Jerry made this video of our adoption journey, and if I had done a Christmas card this year, this would sum it up. I thought the music was odd, but Jerry pointed out that it’s the soundtrack to Superman. Appropriate for our brave boy.