Blessed Be the Name of the Lord!

I was 18 years old when the doctor diagnosed me with PCOS & laid down the news that it would be difficult if not impossible for me to one day conceive without medical intervention.  Being an 18-year-old with no prospects for marriage in the immediate future, I didn't shrug it off, but I wasn't overly concerned.

I married Michael when I was 29, & we were full of hope for our future.  We knew we had a hard road ahead of us in the children department.  And thus has been our experience.  In the course of our marriage, we've had grief over a disrupted adoption process & childlessness.  I'm ashamed to say that I even railed at God a few short months ago, momentarily questioning the most basic truths of His love & goodness like a child throwing a temper tantrum because she's denied something she wants.  I've had my medical diagnosis against me & neither Michael nor I are what you'd call slender, if you know what I mean!  ;-)  With PCOS, this is a definite strike against conception.  Almost 4 1/2 years have come & gone since our wedding, & we've done pretty good at beginning a healthy, active lifestyle . . . but not so great at maintaining it.

Almost 2 months ago, something just clicked, & Michael & I not only began eating healthy & exercising, we kept it up.  We trekked down to the bike trail that winds along the river 4 days a week, I worked out on the weekends while Michael went to his job, & we completely eschewed eating out, opting instead for home-cooked meals & homemade smoothies.  No more ice cream, fries, or deep-fried chicken for us!  Now we focused on farm-fresh eggs & dairy, coconut oil, fruits & veggies, & smaller portions.  When I was hungry, I would picture my stomach & try to eat enough to cover the bottom instead of filling the whole thing.  We ate just until we didn't feel hungry anymore; no more stuffing ourselves.  And we felt great!  Even on our camping trip, we strove not to undo all our hard work & maintain these principles.

Three days ago, Michael came home with a pregnancy test in hand.  I looked at him sideways & initally refused to take it.  Yes, I was late, but that had happened not so long ago as well, so I had decided that my body was simply rebelling against me.  Yes, I'd had a little nausea the last 4 evenings, but that was just the food I'd eaten.  Again, apparently, my body just hated me.  But, I can't look into those beautiful blue eyes & deny him anything for long.  So, I took the test, all the while lamenting that I didn't know why on earth we were doing this.  "I'm never going to get a positive!", said I.  He asked me to check to make sure the line in the test window showed up, indicating that we had done the test properly.  I picked it up.  "Ummmm . . . I think you need to come in here & turn on the light, because I think my eyes are playing tricks on me!"  There it was - a bold, blue plus sign.  But, that just can't be.  My brain shut down.  We snapped a picture on the cell phone & sent it to Beth, because I thought she would know what this meant.  I just couldn't accept what I was seeing.  She squealed with delight, "YOU'RE PREGNANT!!!"  Michael raced out to get a digital test while I peppered her with the same questions repeatedly:  "Can you get a false positive?"; "Can I trust this?";  "Is this for real?"  Three days later, I'm still stunned.  I keep looking at Michael & dreamily saying, "We're having a baby."

We're having a baby!!!