Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Babies Over A Burger.

It was a Monday evening. Doc and I were enjoying a peaceful, Norman Rockwellish I mean, crazy, chaotic type of meal with our three children (ages 5, 2, and 8 month old). Doc looked across the table at me and said, "I'm SOOO glad we are done having kids." I, grateful that we were agreeing, nodded emphatically and said, "Oh Honey, me too"! Not that we don't love kids and all but we just had a peace that our family was complete. We were looking forward to the next phase of our family's existence...we had visions of Disneyland and camping trips dancing in our heads.

I personally was very happy to be done putting my body and mind through the stress and strain of carrying, birthing and nourishing children. I finally had a waist again. I was buying clothes in a size that made me remember that I love shopping. I was in my happy place!

Doc was salivating at the thought of buying a boat and taking us all out fishing. He was relishing the full night's sleep we were enjoying now that our 8 month old was sleeping through the night. And maybe most of all, he was enjoying having a content wife. As the saying goes, "Happy wife, happy life".

Fast forward to Thursday of the same week. I got up and was getting ready for the day. A conversation with Doc came to mind that went something like this...

Doc: Have you started yet? (He had probably noticed my lack of PMS symptoms that month and wondered when to expect the day of hormonal craziness.)
Me: No, but remember, I'm on that medication that makes things all screwy in that department. I'm not worried. I have taken my pills religiously, same time, every night. I'm not pregnant.
Doc: Are you sure. Maybe you should take a test.
Me: No, I'm telling you, it is the medicine. Trust me...if I thought I might be pregnant I would have taken a test by now. Quit worrying.

(This conversation is a perfect example of his "realism" which I call pessimism and my optimism which he calls "denial.")

So, as I recalled this conversation, I decided to take a pregnancy test that I had left over from baby #3 just to ease his worried mind. I was so sure that it was negative that I peed on the stick, put the cap on and tossed it on the counter without even looking at it. I then went back to getting ready. I was blow drying my hair and happened to catch the test out of the corner of my eye and I thought something looked funny. I looked a little closer and discovered that there was an extra line. I thought, "Well that's funny. That's not suppose to be there. Dumb test."

Then, as I was still blow drying my hair, it hit me. There were two lines, not one...which means that I was probably pregnant. What??!! My mind refused to believe it. "No. Nope. Not true. Huh uh. No. No way. No how." I just kept blow drying my hair until it was very, very dry so that I didn't have to make a decision on what to do next.

Finally, I shut off the blow dryer, put it down and picked up the test for a closer examination. Yep, indeed it was two lines. I immediately started rifling through the medicine cabinet for another extra test. Surely I had one somewhere. After I tore the bathroom apart and didn't find another, I determined that I needed to get to the nearest drugstore and get another test. I loaded the kids up, drove to the store and bought the economy pack of tests so that I could do at least 2 more in case the next one was negative and I needed a tie breaker to prove to myself that I really was or wasn't pregnant. I could feel the panic starting to rise as I drove home chugging enough water to be able to pee as much as possible once I got there.

I left the kids (safely strapped in their seats) in the car and ran in the house to the powder room. I ripped the package open and went about doing another test. This time I watched. I watched as the "moisture level" rose into the window producing two nice, bright pink lines. So now I had to face reality. I was pregnant and life as I knew it was over.

What to do next? I did what every woman in my position would do... I went to my best friend Birdie's house. I walked in the door and got the kids off playing with her kids. I said, "Do you know what I found today?" She said, "Uh oh, what did Bub get into?" ( Normally this would have been the most appropriate question. I love that she knows us so well!) I said, "No, it wasn't him. I saw two lines on a pregnancy test!" She immediately knew all the swirly mixed up thoughts going through my mind without a word from me. She hugged me as I bawled like a baby. (Mostly sobbing, " Doc is going to FREAK out!") Birdie managed to help me get myself under control and helped me talk through it all so that I could wrap my mind around the reality of the situation. She spoke the truth to me about how this was all in God's plan for us for our good. She assured me that having been through a similar situation, the blessings of another little one would far outweigh the hardships. Then she suggested we take the kids to McDonald for lunch to drown my sorrows with a Big Mac salad.
Shortly after we started eating, Doc called to see what we were up doing. There was no lunch at the office that day and he was going to have to get something to eat. I told him that we were just down the road at McDonald's and he decided to join us. I told Birdie and her hubby, The Internet Safety Guru, that Doc was on his way. Birdie, hurried along her family's lunch and high-tailed it out of there. I don't think she wanted to be present for the melt down that was potentially just around the corner. Smart girl.

Doc walked in and ordered and ate while I tried to focus on the chit chat of the day and keep the kids under control. By this time, Mickey Dee's was filled to the brim with families and retirees. He finished his lunch and we were heading out the door when a couple of his patients hollered across the restaurant to him. She wanted to discuss the fact that she thought she might be pregnant. I won't go into that part. Although, it is worth the read and you can find it in his side of this story at

He helped me load the kids into the car and I turned to tell him "Goodbye." I REALLY didn't intend to tell him a thing until that night. I REALLY didn't want to tell him I was pregnant in the McDonald's parking lot. However, he sees though me like a window. So the conversation that I didn't want to have began...

Doc: What's wrong?
Me: Nothing. I'm fine.
Doc: Really...what's wrong? I can tell you're upset.
Me: I REALLY don't want to talk about it. I'll talk to you tonight. (Now this statement only served to pique his curiosity.
Doc: Tell me now. It will bother me to go back to work knowing something is wrong. (By this time he was hugging me and was looking straight in my eyes in an effort to decipher just how bad things were.)
Me: I'm pregnant.
Doc: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, I took two tests.
Doc: Did you tell your boyfriend?
Me: You are not helping the situation.
Doc: Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh.
Me: Stop it.
Doc: How did THIS happen? I mean we only "watched movies" once or twice this month because our schedule was so busy.
Me: I don't know. I guess it was just meant to be. I didn't even miss any pills this month.
Doc: I guess they mean it when they say the pills are only 99.99 percent effective. Who knew we'd be the .01 percent.
Doc: Listen, it will be fine. We will deal with it. Things happen for a reason and God is in control.
Me: (Sobbing) I know but I will tell you one thing...I don't care if you have to go to TIMBUKTU, you are going to get a vasectomy.
Doc: OK!
Me: (Sobbing some more)OK.
Doc: Take the kids home and you all lay down for a nap.
Me : (Still sobbing) OK.
Doc: We will talk some more when I get home.

So I got into my car and went home for a two hour "nap" of tossing and turning, praying and crying and crying some more.

Fast forward to the present...we now have 4 kids. Our life is CRAZY and there are days that I want to pull my hair out, take my husband and run for the hills. But, our lives did not end. We are still married and still MADLY IN LOVE (right, Doc?!) and I am slowly getting my figure back (right, Doc?! You'd better be agreeing!). It just wasn't OUR PLAN. Fortunately, God knows what we need more than we do. And our Little Ladybug is one of the most precious, happy, joyful parts of our existence.

So the moral of the story is this...

Don't hold on to your plans too tightly. You might be thrown a curve ball that threatens to take you out of the game but it may be a blessing in disguise. A cute little blessing with the sweetest dimples ever.

Oh, and don't ask your wife if she's told her boyfriend that she is pregnant yet. EVER. Especially in a McDonald's parking lot. (Unless she really has a boyfriend.)


Grammy said...

I'm happy for babies - planned or not and I still think it's pretty hilarious that your little ladybug was due on April Fool's day. Sorry, I just can't help myself!

Dreams of a Country Girl said...

you made me cry...but in a good way...but i am still ugly when i cry

Jenni said...

Heh, Danny did not take the news about #4 so well. We were not in the best position financially, and we truly thought we couldn't *afford* another kid. We had just found out that day that a good friend had died. (She was on Senator Brown's plane when it crashed, and the count had just been confirmed after days of uncertainty.) We had decided not to have any more kids. Let me just say that asking, "How could this happen?" is not the best response. Your already emotional wife will hear, "How could *you* *do* this?" Of course everything was fine. We had a beautiful baby girl who we named after our friend. God has continued to meet all our needs and then some. And youngest dd is the apple of her daddy's eye. They have a truly special relationship. He can't believe how totally wrong he was. But he also went out and got a vasectomy very quickly afterwards! Four is a good number for us.

erin said...

I love your story and your moral. And your little Ladybug is absolutely adorable!!!