Just a late period.
But I had to confirm, what with not having taken a vow of abstinence while simultaneously taking herbal supplements that could be dangerous during pregnancy, when the days easily slipped past 30, 31, 32.
I'm not ready, I've shared with my husband at least a dozen times per month since we last sent a baby from the the womb and into heaven.
I'm not ready, I've declared and ensured we'd taken precautions so as to not find ourselves as surprised and with-child.
I'm not ready, I cried out to God as I looked at the end results of a positive pregnancy test.
I stared at the double lines before calling John into the bathroom to examine the test for himself.
He confirmed the reading, and we stared at each other incredulously.
No tears of joy.
No wide grins.
We just sat there staring at each other like two high school kids, air thick with shock and disbelief.
Quick to read my face, John gathered his mind and quickly shuffled the boys outside, left me and my positive pregnancy test in the bathroom alone to wrestle with each other ...
alone to wrestle with God.
I fully expected for my chest to tighten and my heart to thump wildly beneath my breastbone in a state of panic, my breathing to morph from deep breathes to short whisps of air sucked in through a straw, my mind to race in panic.
But I stood there
test in hand
Word in heart:
"Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you."
Nothing takes the Designer by surprise, and with plans to retest with first morning urine, I fell soundly into hard, deep, fast sleep later that evening knowing that if He wanted this baby to be here, even if I weren't ready, I would be ready when he or she arrived.
Again, in the morning two blue lines displayed across the test, this time smudged and faded and running from a line into a u-shape, alerting my mind to the possibility of faulty tests.
I cursed the invention of the early-detection pregnancy test as I fed the boys breakfast, preparing to make our way through the Target aisles for another box of tests.
Irritated, I thought to God
What are you trying to do to me?
Haven't we had enough of the ping-pong emotions?
Could something just be or not be?
You know I've ached to stretch and swell again ...
my arms have longing to be heavy with drunken-nursing child dozing against my skin.
You know, I whispered in my mind.
And then ... the question turned
on my own heart,
but did I know?
Am I really ready?
Had I really realized the depth of that ache, the lingering longing as I prayed and wondered what He'd have for our family
if we should grow in number or remain four.
The early summer fields spread out before us, I watched two birds flutter and twist in the sky side by side while driving home from the store.
Gracefully, in confidence, they swooped and fluttered and dove and lifted higher and higher, like mirrors of each other.
My heart beat in time with their early-morning dance, knowing too well the fell swoops of low and the ecstasy of high-bright sky horizons.
Three more tests, all negative.
Relief and calm whitewash my mind,
only to be tinged with the color of disappointment.
My mind races to the birds and their early morning dance.
No turns have taken you by surprise, Oh Lord.
You've been following along with each turn of my heart's wing.
You've been listening to my cries for guidance.
Am I ready?
I find answered prayers in the aftermath of two faulty pregnancy tests coupled with three negative ones.
And I know He's answered.
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