June is crazy. I’ve got four kids, and three of them were born in June. This means that every time you turn around, there are people in my house singing songs and throwing presents at my kids. And I’ve still got to work and this year managed to throw in a week of vacation. So, I am sorry to admit that my La La, Little A, turned 5 last week on June 14th, and I am JUST NOW focusing my thoughts long enough to write her a birthday post. This one is probably the hardest for me…because of how her story began.
Little A, when I found out about your brother, Little B, I was shocked. I hadn’t really planned on having more than two children. It was absurd to think that we might possibly have the time, energy, money and love to spread beyond two kids. Also, his pregnancy was very hard on mommy’s body, and I didn’t think that I could physically do it ever again. You will understand this when you get older, even though I know that you don’t now. So, after Little B was born, I had a surgery to make my mommy parts stop working, so to speak. I had a “tubal ligation”. It’s 99% effective in preventing pregnancy. And that’s a lot, La La. It made me feel like I was safe. My family was complete, and we set about to become accustomed to a “Family of 5”. What a giant number. Right? Right?!
About 12 weeks after I had the surgery, though, a strange thing happened. I started feeling sick. I was nauseated every morning. I had terrible heart burn. I had strange dreams. This went on for about a week, and then I woke up one day and the strangest thought popped into my head: “Could I be pregnant?” Of course I wasn’t pregnant. That was just silly. Right? Right?! But as the day went on, I could think of nothing else. I took a pregnancy test, still thinking that I was being ridiculous and paranoid. And, to my surprise, it was positive. So I did what any normal person would do, I went and bought another test. And that one was positive too. Then, I decided that I must have a tubal pregnancy (which is what over 85% of that 1% fail rate, but when I went to the doctor to find out what was going on, I learned that I was truly pregnant, and that you were where you were supposed to be, truckin’ along like a little trooper…those are all very complicated things that you, again, will understand later…but basically, I can tell you this, sweet baby girl: You are a living, breathing, walking, running, talking, singing, skipping, giggling miracle. I didn’t realize it then, to be honest. At that moment, I thought of it all from the worst possible perspective. I was tired, and selfish, and considered the pregnancy to be something to add to my list of “Just My Luck” items. And today, I feel terrible about those feelings that I had. Today, I can look back on it all and see how very special you are. I realize now that God wanted you on this earth, in my care, for a reason, and he had to work extra hard to make that happen, because the odds were stacked against you, big time.
You have completed our family in the way that we needed it most. You are funny, light-hearted, happy and I love you with all my heart. Our story together represents to me so many things, not the least of which is this: When you think that things are the worst that they could possibly be, hold out hope, that this exact moment could actually turn out to be one of your BEST possible moments.
I love you, Little A. I’ll try to do as good a job taking care of you as God did before he sent you down to me.