In August, a few days after ovulating, I had a dream I was nursing a healthy newborn baby. I woke up and immediately wrote down the dream on my phone, ending with, “I was happy. It felt so real.”
I had no doubt the dream was from God, but I knew it didn’t necessarily mean I was pregnant right now. It could mean I’d have a baby one day.
Still, I wondered.
A week later, I texted Justin, “Pre-period cramps are starting ☹️”
I wasn’t pregnant.
I was at a house show and tried to pay attention to the musician, but I was distracted by my disappointment. I would have to wait a whole month to find out if I was pregnant the next time.
The following day, I felt a little off, but chocked it up to stress from work and not getting enough sleep. Even so, I wrote down the symptoms I was experiencing… because maybe, just maybe I was pregnant after all.
I decided I wouldn’t say anything to Justin because the chance was so slim.
The next morning I woke up and the first thing Justin said to me was, “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”
“Why did you say that??” I asked him, surprised.
“Because you don’t seem to have your usual PMS symptoms,” he said. “I think you should take a pregnancy test.”
I jumped out of bed and took a test.
We waited 3 minutes and saw the faintest pink line you ever saw – like maybe it wasn’t even there – but I still thought I saw it. Justin claimed it was the lighting (I later found out he was lying because he didn’t want to get my hopes up.)
My hopes were already up, but we had to wait 24 hours to take another test. I felt crazy the rest of the day – was I pregnant or not???
On Monday, August 20, we took another test. The line was still faint, but it was there.
I was pregnant.
I’ll never forget holding that tiny stick in my hand, knowing my entire life would be different but at the moment feeling exactly the same.
Later that day I was in a car accident that totaled my car and sent the other driver to the hospital in an ambulance. I stumbled out of my car in shock, tears streaming down my cheeks, worried about the tiny, vulnerable baby inside me. The first people I told I was pregnant were the police officers who showed up at the scene.
Miraculously, I was fine besides bumps, bruises, and an incredibly sore body.
The emotions I experienced the next few days were a blur of happiness about my pregnancy, grief about my car wreck, and shock about both events. It was a strange, confusing week.
A week and a half after that fateful day, Justin and I were on our way to see a used car when my first wave of nausea hit me. I knew pregnant women should eat when they’re nauseous, so I grabbed some hummus I had in my car and ate it.
Unfortunately, the hummus had been out for a couple of hours and gave me food poisoning, nearly landing me in urgent care the next day.
Getting a foodborne illness while pregnant can be dangerous (even fatal) to the baby’s health. It’s why women are told to avoid a variety of food – to limit the chance of getting salmonella or listeria (etcetera.)
Again, I feared for my baby’s wellbeing.
After recovering from food poisoning, I sat at my kitchen table and cried. Less than 2 weeks in and I had already failed as a mom. I wrote in my diary, “I’m worried about the baby to the point of tears. All I can do is trust God. God, please protect this baby. My trying isn’t enough – I still got sick and in a car accident.”
God’s response to me, “Why do you think I gave you that dream?”