The year has officially changed, though my hand still stubbornly refuses to write 2016 instead of 2015. There’s always about a three month curve for me until I get it right and the date starts flowing smoothly again. Spring break. That’s my goal. I’ll finally be able to write the date without pausing to think about it by spring break.
We had a rough end to 2015, and a rocky start to 2016. But, we’ve landed on our feet, as usual, and are getting ready to move forward and onward. Let me fill you in…
In the waning days of December, we made the startling and joyous discovery that I was, once again, pregnant. For those of you who have been around, you may know that this has happened quite a few times. Ten, to be exact. My tenth pregnancy. Given I have only two children, you can guess why we received this news with a mix of worry and reserved happiness.
Almost immediately, I started experiencing some truly fantastic pregnancy symptoms. My breasts were swollen and tender. I could smell everything. I peed every five minutes. In the evenings, I became lightheaded and had the perfect excuse to put my feet up and relax. My mornings were spent in a fog as I struggled to fully wake up – more than usual.
I loved each and every one of those symptoms. It meant things were moving along. Hormones were rising.
Until they weren’t.
The day after New Year’s, I woke up feeling…just fine. Alert. Awake. As the day wore on, I noticed the rest of my symptoms had disappeared overnight. Around lunch time, my back ached and a dull cramping began.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, so I knew what all this meant. The Officer, the forever optimist, told me to wait the weekend. Call my doctor Monday morning. See what happens. I did. And nothing changed. It was another three days until I officially lost the pregnancy. By that time, I had been expecting it. I was numb.
A lot went through my mind in that rollercoaster of a week. A lot of “Why God, why?” The last time this happened, a deacon friend of my parents’ counseled me to not lose faith, to trust God has a plan. Let me tell you, after losing eight babies, you kind of start to wonder. What kind of plan is it that God has that would allow me to become pregnant, just to take it from me time and again? We’re good people. We love our children. We take care of them the best we can.
WHAT IS THE PLAN?
I have no answers.
I also went through a lot of life evaluation. In those few days of blissful dizzy foggy-headedness, I couldn’t help but think ahead to what the year would bring with a new little one, how different our lives would look from what he had originally thought. The up-all-nighters. The diapers. The lugging around a carrier and diaper bag everywhere. No longer being able to corral the kids one in each hand. I was exhausted just thinking about it. It would have been great.
And then after, I had to take another look and reimagine. Though, it wasn’t really a reimagining, since I suppose you can call it my original plan, Plan A. Only Plan A seemed like a consolation prize now compared to what it could have been.
But, the kids – they have big exciting plans coming up this year: their first sports teams, friends, vacations. And the Officer, so does he: new business ventures, getting ready for more promotions, fire department events. And caught in the middle of it all, is me. Somehow, in order to make it all work, I have to love Plan A again.
So, that’s what I’ve been working on this past week. Learning to love Plan A again. That’s my first New Year’s resolution. What is Plan A? More of that later. But, for now, I think this is a good place to start. You have to love where you’re going in order to make the trip worth it.
Sure, I could just go through the motions. Fake it ’til you make it. I love that saying. It’s gotten me through a lot of bad times. But, just going through the motions doesn’t really help anyone, especially me. Someone asked me once how I get through it all. The answer is, I just do. The pregnancies were conceived in love. The love is still there, even if the pregnancy didn’t last. Everyday I wake up, and see the smiling faces of my loves, I get through it.
Plan A is a good plan. It was made with love for my family and for myself. And by this time next year, I hope to take a look back and say, “Wow. That was really a good year. And we’re better off because of it.”
I hope the rest of you have had a smoother start to the New Year. And that you all love your Plan A’s, or B’s, or whatever plan you happen to be on. It may be a bumpy road with unexpected detours along the way, but I hope you make the trip worth it. Here’s to loving where you’re going. Cheers!