So anyway.
We had a pregnancy scare yesterday.
You know, there’s logic, which goes a long way – but then there are the weird symptoms and the gut-feeling and you break down and buy the test and pee on it and then you find yourself, in the middle of an adoption process, with a houseful of little boys, in the jeans you JUST got back into, staring at a very faint second line.
There was a time when I had prayed so hard for that line to appear that I thought Heaven would tell me to shut up about it. I cried so many tears that I had no more tears left to cry, wondering if I would ever see anything, anything in that second window. And now my fickle thoughts are bent on other desires. I want sleep. I want to wear long earrings again. I want a second career someday. I want to make recipes that aren’t “kid-friendly,” and I want everyone at the table to sit square in their chair and cut their own meat and get up to refill their own glass of milk.
There was a time when I had prayed so hard for that line to appear that I thought Heaven would tell me to shut up about it. I cried so many tears that I had no more tears left to cry, wondering if I would ever see anything, anything in that second window. And now my fickle thoughts are bent on other desires. I want sleep. I want to wear long earrings again. I want a second career someday. I want to make recipes that aren’t “kid-friendly,” and I want everyone at the table to sit square in their chair and cut their own meat and get up to refill their own glass of milk.
I spent the day pacing, my mind racing, wringing my hands and crying a bit between loads of laundry. All the while, though, there was a flutter in my heart. A mother is a mother is a mother. No matter what, there is that part of a woman - that part that lies still and strong, right against the bones - that will always want another child. We shush it. We deny it. But it is there.
Bedtime finally came and I tossed and turned through the night, waiting on the first morning pee to set this all straight. Sleepily the next morning, I took test after test after test, all with a very blank, very white, very sterile-looking second window.
So what was the deal with that test yesterday? Was it an evaporation line? Was it just a bum test? I think it was a wakeup call: who is L0RD of your life, Kayla Rupp, and what is it that you really fear?
King Caspian in the newest Narnia movie says, “I have spent too long wanting what has been taken from me, and not what I have been given.” Can anyone say CONVICTING?! And when it comes right down to it, don’t we all tread on an indiscriminate pink line? We wish the prognosis was clearer, don’t we? We want definitive answers. Will my children ever walk away from their faith? Will my husband ever fail me? Will I find a lump in my breast in my 40’s?
Will Glory live to see her kindergarten graduation?
The line is faint. The jury is out. There are no guarantees beyond the moment we are in. We can plan and contrive and stew and make lists and buy the right B!ble study programs and wear our hair the way our husbands like it and stand a good way away from the microwave but the truth is, even when we take our birth control pills at the same time every day, we might find ourselves pregnant in the middle of an adoption process. The funny thing about life is, we are usually a little disappointed when we aren't.
