Third Time's The Charm

We will tell him this pregnancy was hard. I will describe to him the nights I laid wide awake, awash in worry and regret. The pandemic frightened me but the sight of two lines on a test tipped me over. I will speak of the moments his father and I fought, argued, and wished for what was not.

In a span of three years, we went from dreaming, hoping, and praying to holding our breaths and bracing ourselves for impact. Carrying an unplanned baby in the midst of a pandemic while juggling two young toddlers – that idea packs a punch. The conceived has become inconceivable.

Pardon the wariness but it must be known that not every pregnancy is met with open arms. That mothers, too, have the permission to turn their backs, and throw questions to the wind, and weep to the tune of inadequacy. After all, we are not superheroes; we are only mortal.

I will tell the little man that we turned our backs on him for a while.

But I will also look him in the eyes and tell him that we never walked away.

As my bump grew, as his heart beat stronger, as he created waves inside of me, we began to imagine. We imagined the sight of three little pairs of feet on the floor of our living room, the wonder of the two older kids at the presence of another sibling, the emergence of a new character, a new soul. The images brought forth, the promises of little delights turned misery into magic. Buried under the demands and pressures of this parenting gig, we often forget that the miracle of all life miracles can be carried in our arms. It’s a good thing love reaches out its hands so we can come up for air and feel the brightness warm our face, our hearts.

Yes, it was not love at first sight. Instead, it was a love that grew amidst the thorns, a love that withstood the darkness. We’ve finally seen the light. Now, we’re just weeks away from the little man seeing the light as well.

It is then that we will whisper in his ears — thank you for arriving.