One year ago today, Jay and I found out we would be welcoming our first baby into our little family.

Initially, I was adamant on waiting to try until AFTER our house was actually standing, as we all know delays and issues are inevitable when building a home. Not to mention I really wanted to focus my time, energy, and finances into getting the new house furnished and perfect, as I considered this house my “first baby” and didn’t want actual baby stuff getting in the way of that. 

Despite all of this - and very uncharacteristically might I add - I got a bit lazy with picking up my birth control prescription back in November. Guised under some very lucky slip ups in the past, and the advice from eager family/friends who often reminded me it can sometimes take months to get pregnant after coming off birth control, I figured I was in the clear. We had just finished putting the well on our land and would be breaking ground to build our forever home within the next few weeks, so even if I wasn’t, the timing would be perfect, right? 

It wasn’t long until I started suspecting it. My boobs hurt way beyond any of the false “OH GOD THIS IS IT I’M PREGNANT” symptoms I had over the years. I wasn’t sick yet, but just felt off. Jay and I had miscarried about 5 years prior to this pregnancy, so I kept trying to remember how I felt during those few short weeks before our loss, convincing myself this wasn’t like that and I was probably just getting my period soon.

We took off to California for a few days after Christmas, and it was when we got back that I just knew. After telling Jay, we found ourselves sitting in the parking lot of a local grocery store. Being the sentimental sap that I am, I turned to him and asked if he would still love me if I asked him to drive the 30 minutes to our land so I could pee on the stick there. It was 9PM at night and dark, but I didn’t want this memory to be one of us finding our whole lives were about to change in the bathroom of our 500sqft house I had grown to hate. He would, indeed, still love me, but simultaneously worry about his future married to an actual nut job. 

We browsed the pregnancy test aisle before my fear of knowing got the best of me and I used the price tag as an excuse to wait. I had a physical scheduled for January 4th, just a week away, and they could tell us for sure. I cried on our way home. 

That week flew by and dragged on all the same, and soon I found myself sitting in the exam room, waiting for my doctor to come back with the results.

My heart fluttered at the sound of her knock on the door, and I held my breath while she prepared her words. The words that would put me to tears while my husband jumped for joy. The words that I weren’t ready for in that moment, but would grow to come to terms with. The words that didn’t fit my perfect plan, but made me grow as a person because of that. 

“Well there is no mistaken these lines, you are VERY pregnant.” 

It was in that moment we knew our lives were changed forever, but what we didn’t know? 

Oh what we didn’t know.