It's been 4 months since I've posted and I now have the pull to write again. I am sitting in bed, unable to sleep, so I'm writing from my phone. It's a crossover phone. Larger than your average phone, yet smaller than a tablet. The Samsung Galaxy Note II is by far my most favorite phone I've ever had.
Much has happened in the last 4 months. Much. After the sudden and tragic death of my boyfriend I was pretty sure my life was at its lowest. Nothing can prepare you for the death of a loved one. Every human will deal with it in their own way. I disappointingly found out that some people think that their way was the only way, I couldn't live up to their grieving expectations so I have gladly parted ways with those people. No one knows my whole story but me and God.
After Bruce's' death, my friend practically begged me to meet her neighbor. Begged or demanded...I'm still not sure which, nor does it matter. I was suffering an anxiety attack about meeting up with some work friends, so I decided to take off and meet my friends neighbor. It may sound weird that I was more inclined to meet a single person than to hang out with a group of people, but to explain, large groups bring on panic attacks. I have backed out of several group invitations due anxiety. To successfully attend a large gathering I usually need to be accompanied by someone very close to me. If I am to go alone, 99% of the time my nerves win. This has been a lifelong battle. Life long.
I drove an hour and a half to meet someone who lived next door to a friend of mine. We had only chatted online a few times and spoke on the phone maybe once. He knew where I was coming from and offered me an ear. For me, when I met him for the first time, the connection was instant. We easily talked and conversation was smooth and relaxing. He was gracious, kind, non threatening nor pushy and it was a nice feeling knowing he truly wanted to know about me. Really know me. It just took that one time meeting and we became inseparable. I feel very fortunate. I know in my heart that Steve is going to be mine for the rest of my life.
Rewind & more about me. The year was 2005, plus or minus a year, I was diagnosed with Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome. Testing was invasive and extensive in order to rule out anything else. I had suffered multiple miscarriages. Outwardly I tried to blow them off, but inside I was a total mess. During this time, I was 7 years into my marriage, having gotten married at the age of 19 to my high school sweetheart. Together we had 3 beautiful and healthy children, so after much soul searching, and doctors words, I realized that without major medical intervention the chance of becoming pregnant again was not in the picture. To regulate my weird and painful girliness, I was placed on birth control. Not to control future births (I was told I has stopped ovulating) , but to make being a girl more tolerable.
Fast forward to July & August of 2013, I was still on birth control. I told my new beau there was nothing to worry about. October 2013 rolls around and I'm feeling different. I was afraid I had a growth in my ovaries or something terrible and I finally chose to go into the doctors. Being female, I have taken many pregnancy tests at the doctors and even at the dentist. I wasn't concerned with the outcome, which I knew would be negative. What I wanted was a complete blood panel done and tests to make sure I wasn't on my death bed. My doctor came in and chatted up a storm with me. She asked how life was going among other things. This went on for about 10 min before she dropped the bomb. She told me I was 'very pregnant'. I think my jaw hit the floor. What does 'very pregnant' even mean? Does it mean I'm already 9 mos and ready to deliver like some of those ladies you see on TV? I told her I wasn't pregnant and she argued that I was. After picking up my jaw I left the doctors. I drove straight to Cold Stone Creamery and devoured a large ice cream. I then go to a drug store and purchase 3 pregnancy tests. They all came out positive. Very positive. There was definitely no denying that 2nd line...in fact, it was darker than the control line.
Telling Steve. I was so scared to tell him. I couldn't even look at him. I had my head buried in shame and I was bawling. What if he felt trapped, what if he didn't want a baby, what if...what if...what if.. Well what I didn't expect was to have him say 'hey, look at me (forcing me to make eye contact)...I'm okay with this.' And I really think he was...which is good because I needed his strength...I was (and still am) running on fumes.
We go to the doctors a few days later to find out that I'm already 10 weeks. I'm already a quarter done with my pregnancy. Ultrasound showed a very active and healthy baby. It still didn't hit me 100%...nor has it yet. I am currently 25 weeks and only have 15 more to go. I don't think it will hit me until I have the baby in my arms. We are now the parents to be of baby Ryan Thomas William Hays due May 2nd 2014. This pregnancy has been full of anxiety, Insomnia, depression, joy, laughter, crying, more crying, pain, love and much more. It's been 10 years since my last baby, 7 years since I was told I couldn't have any more kids naturally, and only 6 months since I met the father of my future son. God is surprisingly good at surprises. I could shame away from the fact that Steve and I aren't married...or even engaged for that matter...or I can embrace that I am bringing a new life into this world. A new life that will have two doting and loving parents, amazing older siblings, two sets of awesome grandparents, and overflowing with aunts and uncles and cousins. Love is all that matters.
'All we need is love'