Well, it might be time to go public with this, mostly because (despite how many anti-anxiety pills I'm taking) I'm having a pretty serious panic attack. Can't sleep. Can't hold still. Can't figure out what it is I want to say. So please bear with me if you can.
Straight out (easiest way): Anthony and I are going to have another baby.
No, we're not pregnant. We haven't even removed my IUD, so we're not even officially trying. But it's going to happen. And sooner, rather than later.
I know this because God's still, small voice has been growing louder and more restless in my mind--for months--to the point that it's occupying my thoughts more than I would care for.
I'm going to have another baby. And that scares the [strong word of choice] out of me!
During and after my last pregnancy, I flat out told anyone who'd listen, including God, that I would NEVER do that again. Never. Not for any reason. Even if God sent an angel to tell me, I'd probably laugh and say, "Yeah, right."
Well, God didn't send an angel. Turns out I didn't need one. Instead, he planted a seed in my stony, stubborn heart, and somehow (don't ask me how) turned my heart into fertile soil. And that seed has grown until it fills my whole being with the knowledge--and even the desire--of my next child. You want to talk about miracles? That's a freaking miracle!
Here's the catch: I'm terrified. There are so many unknowns, so many things I don't feel ready or capable to handle.
Will I be so sick again? The doctor suspects so; hyperemesis tends to be consistent, but it shouldn't be as bad without the ovarian issues of last time. How will I take care of Lana if I'm so sick? Some days I feel like I'm barely making it through, and I'm (relatively) healthy. Who could I call on, last-minute, on especially hard days without feeling guilty?
Will Lana feel neglected if I can't spend as much time and energy on her because I have to hover near the toilet?
How on earth do I go from one to TWO?
Who will hold my hand through this process?
Who will be my earthly angels to carry me through? Isn't that a lot to ask?
What if I lose more babies as we try to carry a pregnancy? What if we don't and our babies are close together in age?
I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm getting into. And it terrifies me.
All I know is that the Spirit's whisper has become a shout and I must obey. I have to trust God will make this work; it's His idea, after all. Heaven help me, I MUST obey.
We'll keep you posted on any developments, of course, but for now, if you see a look of panic in my eyes, this is probably why. Give me a hug, hold my hand, and tell me it will be okay.