Our Pregnancy Journey (A Year in the Making)

The Prompting

In March 2019, I was on the brink of college graduation, full of the giddy excitement that builds after months and months of sheer anticipation.  Life was set for the both of us.  I would travel the world that summer, work at an amazing internship up in Salt Lake, and start my Masters of Public Administration program in the fall.  Sam would excel at his advertising internship, focus on his (then) calling of EQ President, and continue to press forward with his own educational pursuits.

We were totally and completely content with just being the two of us.  No need to add a baby into the mix.  We had a plan, and a baby was definitely not in our future anytime soon. (And besides, cheerio-eating babies at church and our cute nieces and nephews made it easy to get just the right amount of baby dosage for our busy lives.)

But one night, as we were sitting in our neighbor's living room, enjoying our weekly Come, Follow Me discussions, I felt this distinct impression that Sam and I should intentionally start preparing ourselves for our future children.  This. Was. Revelatory.  At least for me.  As soon as I thought that, the Spirit pressed so firmly upon my mind that I couldn't shake it.  I left our discussion that night completely consumed by this prompting.  Was God telling us to start trying?

Wrestling with God

For months, I wrestled with this question.  My "wrestling" with the Lord came in several ways.  First, I assumed the juvenile, but so easily employable, tactic of denial.  After the initial shock wore off, I quickly ignored this little episode and frankly pushed it out of my mind anytime it arose.  I had more pressing things to worry about, after all.  But the faster I ran away from my problems, the quicker they caught up to me.  My denial culminated into a mini panic attack one afternoon.  I told Sam I was taking the car and would be back shortly after.  Then, I grabbed the keys and drove to a nearby field and cried and cried.  I poured out my heart to God.  I shared with him my deepest concerns.  Why, oh why, God, was I facing such internal torment?  I could not shake these thoughts, and yet I wanted to keep denying them.

 Though I looked like a wailing lunatic to anyone glancing from the outside, I began feeling some sense of clarity.  Prayer had a profound and cathartic effect on my soul.  I started writing down my thoughts on my phone.  I listed all of my fears and concerns about motherhood.  I listed all my rebuttals to God for why I didn't think it was the right time. (I still have this saved on my phone, and it gives me a good chuckle when I read through some of the more irrational, nonsensical ones.)

And then, I drove home spent and exhausted.  I woke up the next morning determined to work on conquering every single one of those fears I had listed.  If I were to get pregnant one day, I at least needed to try to overcome these fears.

There were many other experiences that are a part of my "wrestle".  They are forever imprinted on my memory, and I consider some too sacred to write on a blog post.  A powerful priesthood blessing.  A tender comment made by a dear friend.  Phone calls with MPA colleagues who became mothers while pursuing their MPA degree and who imparted tremendously helpful advice.  Hours and hours of conversations with Sam as we drifted off to sleep at night...

Birth Control: First My Friend, Now My Nemesis

Later that summer, Sam and I made the decision to finally start trying.  But the tough part for me was yet to come.  And that was mustering the courage to stop taking my birth control pill once and for all.  I knew that once I stopped, I would no longer be protected, and our decision would be finalized. There would be no going back.

At first, I thought, "Okay, tonight is the night!  I will not take birth control.  Sam, don't let me take this pill!"  And then I would gulp it down 30 minutes later too scared to commit.  The next night and the next night went in similar fashion.  Determination and then fear.  Determination and then fear.

Sam tried to help, too, by assuaging all my fears.  He never pushed or pressured me.  For example, one day, I came home from the health clinic with a year's worth of birth control pills because they were on sale for 50% off.  (I know, I caved. Now we just have a year's worth of birth control just sitting in our bathroom cabinet.)  But he just shook his head and chuckled, never judging my indecisiveness, always acting out of love and understanding.  And we continued trying to wean myself off of birth control.

Finally, we made a breakthrough.  Sam and I were flying to Ireland and England in a week, and I was fed up with myself.  I told him that we would just leave all of our pills at home so that there would be no temptation for me since we would be abroad.

And I don't know what it was--the weather, the change of scenery, the sense of freedom travelers get--but once we were in Ireland, I overcame my fears and never looked back at those pills.  Which meant Sam and I officially started trying.

Acting in Faith

We began trying just as I entered the most rigorous, fast-paced semester of my life.  Graduate school was no joke.  It took a few months for my body to expunge all birth control effects.  As prime baby-making time passed each month without any luck of us getting pregnant, we were starting to get a little restless.  Even though we couldn't necessarily control when we got pregnant, we were really hoping to get pregnant in the fall so that I could deliver the following summer and NOT during the semester.

 We were fasting and praying, but the window to have a baby in the summer was quickly growing slimmer and slimmer by the day.  We were getting discouraged after a few negative tests.  A good friend of ours got pregnant shortly before us, and though we were elated for them, we were questioning why it wasn't happening for us.

One night, we felt prompted we should pray differently.  Instead of asking God to bless us with a baby soon, we just asked God to bless us with a baby in His timing and according to His will.  Even if that meant--heaven forbid--I deliver during a school semester.  Once we started praying like this--not seeking to alter or change the will of God, but rather pleading for patience and understanding as we continued to follow our promptings--our whole attitude about this baby-making process changed.  We no longer felt pressure to have a baby within our timetable.  We were content with having one in the Lord's timetable.

The Results!

I continued with my studies thinking little of ovulation cycles and pregnancy dates.  Instead, I sought joy in the present.  Shortly in November, I had missed my period for several weeks, but I brushed it aside thinking it was another weird side effect from stopping birth control.  But then, December rolled around and still no period.  I continued to shrug it off.  I didn't want to get my hopes up again just to read another negative pregnancy test.

After two months of no period, Sam and I decided that we should test.  So one day after Christmas, I peed on a stick.  The result?  Negative.

I was so, so confused!  Why, why, why didn’t I have my period then?  Maybe it was some weird hormonal imbalance I was experiencing after I got off of birth control.  I kept conjuring up possibilities.  But before I threw away the pregnancy stick in despair, I looked more closely at the pregnancy test and realized that my test result was a false negative--there was no line in the control window, which meant that I should retest for a more accurate result.

I decided I would test again once we got to Cincinnati for Christmas break.  So, on December 27th, the day we flew into Cincinnati and the day of my mom’s birthday, we decided to test once more.  We set the stick in the cup of pee and waited eagerly.  After the appropriate amount of time had passed, Sam lifted the stick out of the cup and spotted a bright blue positive sign--we were pregnant.

I shook my head in disbelief.  There was just no way that I could actually be pregnant.  I ripped open another pregnancy test and dipped it in the pee again, just to be sure.  Sam and I waited in anticipation, suspense paramount.  Sure enough, as soon as the stick hit the pee, a positive sign slowly emerged in the window.  Yep.  Definitely pregnant.

Sam rushed downstairs to tell my mom while I stayed in the bathroom in utter disbelief.  My mom rushed upstairs and began hugging us both.  I didn’t fully process the fact that I was pregnant that night.  It took several more days for me to fully internalize that we were pregnant, after all the trying and negative tests we took.  I found out I was eight weeks pregnant already.  Eight weeks of being pregnant and not knowing.  Ha!  And even better, my due date was set for early August, meaning I could deliver in the summer instead of during the school year. A tender mercy indeed.

Pregnancy Journey in Retrospect

Another tender mercy: I had the easiest first trimester.  No morning sickness. Very little nausea.  Same energy levels.  (Now that I'm in the second trimester, I get hungry a lot more frequently, but that’s about it.)  Around week 10, Sam and I went in to our first doctor’s appointment and got to see our baby for the first time.  When they did the ultrasound, I was actually really surprised to see anything in there at all.  But sure enough, a little nub was squirming around in my womb, and I stared at the screen completely transfixed.  It felt so surreal!  A true confirmation that we were indeed actually pregnant and that something that Sam and I made was growing inside of me.  I teared up during the ultrasound--a sacred experience I will never forget.

I look back at my journey grateful for all of the Lord's nudging and prodding this past year.  I feel as if I have grown tremendously in faith, patience, and trust in God's timing.

My trial of faith has been 1) struggling with a desire for motherhood and 2) juggling motherhood with my career pursuits and ambitions.  I recognize that some women struggle with the exact opposite and that their most intense desire is to become a mother.  Many others face a variety of challenges unique in their own way.

But I hope anyone who reads this blog post can be reminded of the wonderful smattering of tender mercies the Lord sends to all of His children as they navigate their individual paths during mortality.  We may not know all the answers now, but once we grow in faith and act on that faith, there's no stopping what the Lord can do for us.  Truly, "all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).



**(Note: I do not detail Sam's experiences because I can't adequately convey Sam's point of view of everything this past year.  All I know is that he is the most affirming, respectful and empowering man I have ever met.  I can honestly say he never once pushed or pressured me in any way to try for kids or to fit some housewife role.  He always supported me in my endeavors to pursue excellence in both my education and my budding career, in addition to motherhood.)**

Our Baby Bao, 10 weeks

We still can't believe it!