I'm serious when I say that I had not been discharged from the hospital after Cohen had been born when I looked my husband square in the eye and told him we would try to have another baby in a year. I'm pretty sure hormones played a part, but I also knew that our plan was to have 2 children, and I wanted them to be as close in age as possible.
We didn't make it to Cohen's first birthday before we decided we were ready for another baby. We made it 10 months. And even though it took a little while to become pregnant with Cohen, and I knew in the back of my head that it would probably take some time with #2 as well, I was super impatient.
Month by month passed us by with no pregnancy symptoms, negative pregnancy tests, and broken hearts. I looked to each new month with excitement and anticipation and expectation. Vitamins, supplements, planning, timing, praying, crying, moping, ovulation tests, a friend's new baby, feeling sorry for myself, committing to trust in God. 10 months passed by with no new baby.
And then September rolled around. I had been charting my temperatures religiously, and I was beginning to get excited: I was seeing the tell-tale rise in my temperature. Each morning, it rose higher and higher. Each day, I promised myself I'd wait one more day to see my temperature rise before I broke out the pregnancy tests.
One Friday, 2 days before we were to go on our cruise, I couldn't take it anymore. My temperature skyrocketed, and I just knew. I took a test and sat on the toilet and stared at it as the first line appeared and then, slowly, a second line began to show up. Tears, thank you Lord prayers, ohmygosh repetitions, giggles, and more tears. A sigh of relief. Finally, a new baby.
We told our parents and a few close friends pretty early in the pregnancy, but for the most part, we enjoyed our little secret. I never thought that was a secret I'd ever want to (or be able to) keep, but I was surprised to discover that it was kind of nice and pretty easy. Finally, a few days before Thanksgiving, we made it to the second trimester.
And the cat was out of the bag.
We're now more than halfway through this pregnancy. Time is flying past me; May is only a few months away, and, good night, we're not ready yet. I'm taking my time with this little boy, enjoying every moment of pregnancy, making the effort to store to memory the way his kicks feel and how active he gets when he hears Cohen's voice. I'm spending these last few months being intentional about loving on Cohen and giving him as much quality one-on-one time as I can.
We are so excited about this little guy, and I thank God every day for such a special blessing.