The story behind our little sprout will, without a doubt, bring tears to my eyes for the rest of my life. I share this story with a humble heart, knowing that there are so many women out there still waiting, still hurting, still wishing. I will never forget that side of the fence, nor the emotions that come with it. My prayers are with each of you.
On April 27th I had an appointment to discuss my medical history with my PCM. We talked at length about the nearly 2 year long battle with infertility I had been facing, and lined up numerous tests. The first tests ordered were two labs to check my hormone levels. I went in that Friday, the 1st of May for the first set of labs, and was to return again around May 11th (depending on my cycle). My PCM also encouraged me to ask Jake to request a semen analysis.
The first blood draw was completed, and Jake had his test done.
He went back to the doctor on May 6th and he found out that his count was very low. The average count is 39 million; his was at 5 million.
My heart sank.
Jake felt guilty and as if he was a disappointment to me, and my heart knows that feeling all too well–for I felt the same emotions after I was diagnosed with Endometriosis and we didn’t get pregnant like the doctors assured us we would. And somehow, this sweet man of mine stayed strong for me as I began to crumble. I reiterated that I didn’t blame him. He knew I didn’t want him to feel sorry. I just didn’t think there was a chance we would conceive naturally anymore. In fact, I had lost so much hope that I truthfully believed that fertility treatments would be our next step. New roadblocks kept being laid down before we found a way around the first one. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand.
I sobbed for a while, then I’d get angry, and most of the time I just couldn’t speak, let alone crack a smile. To add salt to an open wound, Mother’s Day was right around the corner. Sunday morning I woke up angry. My period was 2 days late and I just knew it was because of the stress. Mother Nature was certainly playing a really cruel joke on me.
Jake and I had plans to meet a friend of mine that I had been in touch with for months, as her and her husband had finally arrived in Spain. We grabbed coffee on base and chatted like old friends, and for those two hours I was pleasantly distracted. But, eventually we came home and the mental and emotional preparations for church had me sick to my stomach.
Jake came upstairs after I finished getting ready and he just held me, knowing that I was a nervous wreck. He began to sway side to side, slowly dancing with me and singing a song. That’s his gentle way of breaking up the routine of every day life, making me smile when he can’t find the words, and reminding me how much he loves me in all seasons. I stashed a pack of tissues in my purse and prayed that I would make it through the service.
Our new friends met us for church and sat with us in the back pew, knowing our struggles and understanding that I might need to cut out early. Within 10 minutes of service starting, the chaplain asked for all the moms to stand up to be prayed for. I instantly tucked my chin into my chest and began to weep. Through closed, tear-drenched eyes, I tried to keep praying for these women, all of which I am sure are fantastic mothers. I just felt unworthy, and after the prayer ended, my sweet new friend hugged me and said “It was so brave of you to come.” Jake and I walked out of church, and I knew the night was only going to get more difficult.
My PCM was expecting me to drop by the lab the next morning for cycle day 3 lab work. But, I was late. I knew the next step would be to test and to save face from her asking if I had, Jake and I had already discussed picking up pregnancy tests on our way home from church. We pulled into the parking lot of the mini mart, he kissed my cheek–still covered in tears–and went in to get the tests while I waited in the car, trying to pull myself together.
We got home and I took a couple swigs of water and nonchalantly took the test, fully expecting a negative. At least I knew I’d be at home and wouldn’t have to leave again. I could go straight to bed and cry until there was nothing left. Within less than 30 seconds, I was screaming for Jake to come upstairs.
It was POSITIVE.
Not a faint positive. There was no doubt. Two solid pink lines, and my tears of sadness had become sobs of joy.
What I thought was a Mother’s Day curse had just become the biggest blessing and most wonderful miracle. Not only was it Mother’s Day, it was also 4 years to the day since Jake had asked me to be his forever. I couldn’t have written a more perfect story. Those two years of struggling were so worth it, and I really wouldn’t have it any other way. Right when science tried to tell us it might be impossible without fertility treatments, God stepped in and said, “Through me, ALL things are possible.” And I give Him all the glory.
To everyone that has held us in prayer, encouraged us, and/or offered an ear throughout this journey: we love you and appreciate your support more than we could ever truly express. Baby Erwin will surely know how many incredible people stood with us in hopes of this little miracle being created.
We can’t wait to meet you, sweet little one. Thank you for making us parents. May the long weeks of morning sickness, roller coaster of hormones, and sleepless nights remind us both to be appreciative, because they mean that you exist. We prayed for you for two years and we can’t wait to teach you about the God that answered in the most marvelous way. We love you so much already.