We found out that we were pregnant on July 4th. We laughed that we had lost our independence on Independence Day. We weren't telling anyone until we could have it confirmed by the doctor (except grandparents and aunts and uncles), but we smiled A LOT. A few weeks later we would confirm at the doctor's office that we had read the pee-stick correctly (twice). A couple weeks later I was calling my mom and asking "How much bleeding is too much?"
On the verge of tears I called the doctor's office and left my information for the on-call doctor to respond. Except that by the time the doctor called back I was crying too much to say anything coherent. Your daddy took the phone. He answered the questions, and, when I was composed, handed me the phone for more questions. I answered. The doctor said we were on "threatened miscarriage" and to keep my feet up for the rest of the weekend and until we could be seen in the office.
So, daddy brought me food, I rolled slowly and uncomfortably for a couple days on a small leather couch in front of pointless television, and I emailed my job to say I wouldn't be in until after a doctor visit on Monday. I texted to grandma when I could with any updates - no phone calls, I couldn't talk without crying. And I cried myself to sleep. I swore to God that even though I hadn't been sure about the whole motherhood thing I would love this baby more than anyone. Please don't take it.
I learned later that your daddy cried in the home office when we found out it could be a miscarriage - he was strong for me, but very, very worried.
And a lovely friend sent me a verse to remind me that God was in control - one way or another.
"Philippians 4:6-7 "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the PEACE of God, which passeth all understanding shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
So I added prayers for the peace that goes beyond my own understanding in whatever the outcome was. But, I kept pleading for you to stay.
Monday came not soon enough. We sat nervously in the doctor's office until they called us both back to check for the heartbeat. Jelly on belly and the nurse started searching. And she kept searching. And she kept searching. Apparently, you were a wiggler even then because it took her the longest minute of my life to hear your heartbeat.
And we smiled again.