So much has happened since my last post.
As I write this, I am almost 5 months pregnant. Yes, it’s a miracle. After my ectopic pregnancy, it took Matt and I a while to get pregnant again. But, finally it happened, and right when we least expected it—I was just starting a new job and we were in the process of moving into our new digs. “Impossible,” I told myself when I was three weeks delayed. Not with all the stress and all the action. Finally, I ask Matt to pick up a pregnancy test at the drugstore, “I’m sure the result will be negative, but I just need to take the test already so I can consult with the OB-GYNE and see what’s wrong.”
I go to sleep that night, planning to do the test the next morning when my HCG levels would be highest. But, I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and cannot bring myself to go back to sleep. I had to know.
So, I go into the bathroom and do the test. The 5-minute wait for the results felt like forever as a mish-mash of emotions came over me. A part of me felt indifferent, telling myself that I KNOW it will be negative and its ok. Another part was afraid of yet another disappointing result, dreading the dull pain that it will bring. But, there was still that tiny part that was hopeful, that maybe this time a small miracle might actually happened. And as the two lines indicating a positive result appeared, it was a new set of emotions that took over: First, shock; then slowly, there’s that raw feeling of happiness reserved solely, I thought, for lottery winners. For the first time in a really long while, I felt victorious.
I rushed to share this feeling with my husband, who was fast asleep and without a clue in the world. Half-awake, he mumbles asking what was wrong, and I said, “I’m pregnant.” He says, “Huh? How?” And I laughingly reply, “I don’t know! I just am. Isn’t that crazy?” Still half-asleep, he celebrates a bit with a small “yay” and tells me to go back to bed. Naturally, it all set in the next morning, when the reality of it all was too vivid to ignore.
The journey since then has been long and sometimes scary, with the trauma of the ectopic pregnancy still very fresh in our minds. But so far, it has been close to perfect, with just a little nausea during the first trimester I had to endure. But its all good, I really cannot complain. We have prayed long and hard, and now we have been blessed. Sometimes we still shake our heads in disbelief, and I think that was the whole purpose to the ordeal we had to endure. Now, we appreciate every single tidbit of this pregnancy, every day that passes and I have this blossoming life within me. It’s the most amazing gift both of us have ever received, and we are so grateful.
As Matt and I celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary this weekend, we continue on this premise of gratefulness. No, it has not been perfect: we have had our share of issues and “real world problems” that we’ve had—and continue—to deal with. But still, there is just too much to be thankful for. For one, we now know who our real friends are. Ordeals weed out the fun-time friends from those who will stick with you even at your lowest. Same goes with family—some have proven to be truly valuable components in our lives, while others apparently we can do without. But most importantly, these troubles made us realize that we cannot live without each other, no matter what. We fight, we argue, we shout, we cry—but in the end, one cannot be complete without the other.
A few months ago, at the height of my trying first trimester, a craving for cupcakes hit me and I threw it out into the universe (Facebook, actually), waiting to see if my prayers would be answered. A blessing came in the form of a friend I haven’t seen in a long time that just happened to be in the same area as Cupcakes by Sonja and was headed towards the direction of my office. So, she sends me a private message on Facebook asking for directions to my building, and that was that. No, she wasn’t selling insurance or Nu Skin—she just gave me my half-dozen cupcakes, congratulated me on my pregnancy, we hugged, and she went on her way.
And I think that’s what life is all about—you can plan as much as you want, but things hardly ever pan out the way you envision it. We just need to do our best, live and love as hard as we can, and hope that things turn out fine. It really is about faith, if you think about it. Then, when the powers that be decide its time, you get the love of your life, your dream job, your own family—or even your cupcakes. And when that finally happens, you will be so unbelievably grateful.