The Morning I Found Out I Was Making a Human

In the black of an almost-winter morning, I woke up on my living room floor. Having to remind myself that the cause of sleeping outside of our bed was back pain that only a hard floor can relieve, I simultaneously scrambled to make sure I hadn't overslept. My body woke itself up as if it was anticipating something.

I went to the bathroom and actually turned the light on. Lights are unusual for me in the morning; everything I need to navigate is familiar enough in the dark. But this particular day there was an extra element that desperately required my undivided attention.

Within what felt like nanoseconds, that test was as positive as I had been six days before. I screamed my husband's name at the top of my lungs — so much for not waking him up. Dreamland was still in his eyes, but so was the brightest bulb of excitement.

We were having a baby.

Rewind.

One week prior, we'd prepared for a weekend trip to Philadelphia. More than a quick getaway, it was an opportunity to spend intimate time with our new church family and soak in everything at the Thriving Frequency Conference: All Jesus Everything.

The two-and-a-half day affair was filled with food. By filled, I mean filled. But not before I skipped out on a rooftop kickback for some serious sleep. He was confused — to use the nicest word — about how I could sleep through the first night of our trip. I couldn't explain it. Sleep is a part of me, but that day I hadn't done anything to warrant that kind of exhaustion.

By Saturday night, after a full spread family-style dinner at Maggiano's over debates about the best R&B album and the best part of the weekend... I thought if I never ate again I'd be fine. My stomach felt like a water balloon on a hot summer day. Like it would absolutely burst with one wrong move. Just one.

Further back.

I can honestly admit, with my full womanhood intact, that a baby was not on my radar.

I was much more pleasantly consumed with building a fulfilling career, creating habits that made life work, and honestly — myself. As soon as you get married, you get bombarded with baby questions. My grandmother led that pack enthusiastically. And in the same breath, everyone tells you to take your time. The mixed messages pushed me further and further from the idea. Plus, I really like travel. I enjoy my luxuries. I love being selfish with my time.

If we're being fully honest: some of my fear about having a baby was that I would fear having a baby. I'm a realist with a generally skeptical lens. This world is scary on its own; society makes babies seem less like blessings and more like burdens. I had taken on those sentiments. I was anxious at even the thought of how I'd feel if I actually got pregnant — and how those feelings might become perceptions of an innocent child who never asked to be here anyway.

Fast forward.

I am obsessed with What to Expect and the Ovia apps. Google is my best and worst friend; Amazon is a close second in both categories. Moms in community group posts who ask exactly what I'm thinking and feeling are like gold.

I'm consistently aware of the size of my baby in various forms — currently: sweet potato, cucumber, flying squirrel, slingshot, croissant, or Nintendo controller. This little human is so incredibly special to me already. Pregnancy so far has been gracefully smooth. Morning sickness was not a factor; food aversion absolutely is, and I'm so mad about it. The baby really likes fruit. Just like Momma. We've seen a spine, a wave, and heard a powerful heartbeat. The nugget really likes to dance — and if they ever deny it, we have video evidence.

Today I'm five months. I'm taking any and all suggestions for relieving back pain. And if you ask me one-on-one, I'm completely open to answering the TMI questions. The books and apps don't even tell you all of it.

What I didn't expect.

All in all, I love this kid.

In some God moment that's been carrying me since the moment my inkling was proven correct, all of my paralyzing fears never returned. Not one. I see this child as a beautiful addition rather than a stressful multiplication. I understand this baby is nothing short of God's grace — an entrusting of one of His children to my care. I acknowledge the opportunity to raise a human being who shines the light of Christ through their life, and I'm humbled enough not to take too much credit for His work.

Only God can grant the peace that's been given to me since I learned of a human growing on the inside. I was so confident I'd be exploding with anxiety... but the relief of knowing I wouldn't even be here without His power is reassuring. The only thing left to fear is childbirth, and no one can talk me down from that — but I'll be okay. I think.

Pray for us; that we continue to carry Christ, walk in wisdom, and extend the grace we so undeservingly received.

By the end of these 40 weeks, I hope to learn more about the mysteries of God and myself through this baby than anything else. And I'm almost halfway there — in more ways than one.