I didn’t want kids.

I didn’t know it would feel like this.

We spent a lot of our marriage moving around, reinventing, re-establishing. It’s exhausting, honestly. Fun, sure. Exciting, absolutely. But exhausting. I saw my friends buying houses, having babies, establishing families. We were happy just us two. We longed for that, to be just the two of us for our entire dating relationship. Happy.

We always knew we would expand our family some day. Both with a heart for those pesky teenagers, we plan(ned) to foster to adopt older children in the future. I liked that it gave us time. I liked that it gave children who would otherwise have no home base to carry into adulthood a soft place to land. This is certainly still part of our journey, I believe. We also get to experience a lot this satisfaction in our line of work. Officially or not. Called.

I don’t know what prompted me to ask. To say the words out loud. I had confessed them earlier that year to my best friend. A baby had just been on my heart. Not in any kind of certain way. Just sort of…there. I felt the traditional clock ticking. If a biological child was something we actually wanted, well, we needed to know sooner rather than later at that point. I was fully convinced I wasn’t able to get pregnant. And I’d reached the point that if that was actually the case, I needed biology to tell me that so I could officially let the thought go.

We went on a trip with our friends in December of 2020 — and somehow, it just sort of came up one night. He was on the same page, and shockingly, within 4 weeks, there I was. Pregnant.

I know…

This part is hard for me now — but my first reaction when I realized what was happening (I knew before I took a test — maybe I’ll share someday how), was  panic. I’m told that’s normal. But I actually had the thought OMG, what did we do?

Selfish. That was the word I kept chewing on. I was too selfish to be a mom. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t give the child what they deserved.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I wish I’d known. I wish I knew then what I know now. Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

My friends, thank God, offered constant reassurance. Knowing me better than I knew myself, apparently, they were my constant cheerleaders through those nine months.

And then he was here. In the most dramatic way possible, I became a mom. J became a dad. And then there were three. And everything came screaming into focus.

I didn’t know it would feel like this. I didn’t know that it is scientifically impossible for me to be too selfish to be his mom. He wakes, and I run into his room, excited for another day. I’m collecting my stuff and grabbing my keys at 4:59, rushing out of work excited to grab him at the end of the day.

All of it. The screaming cries. The vomit. The sleepless nights. The sleeping in the crib (yes, I’m crazy). All of it. I’m just so thankful for it all. I’m so glad he’s here. I’m so glad we get the chance to experience this kind of love.

I didn’t know it would feel like this. I’m glad I know now. So thankful I know now. So. Very. Thankful.