My friends know.
My family knows.
God knows.
How Annie came to be. I had grown up in a church where "True Love Waits", and I believed it. It was something I held onto. It was apart of me. It was "who" I was. The one that was waiting...at twenty seven...
My first kiss, 26.
Oh, no, far from perfect.
But I said no and long story short recieved the shock of my life when, not knowing I had even lost my virginity, two lines showed up...yep, two pink lines.
No. No. It cannot be. I said no. Nothing happened. Another test this time a "plus" sign as in "plus one" is residing in your womb. To the hospital. No. I need a blood test. Confirmation. I was pregnant. I remember what I was wearing. It's funny the details one remembers. Now what exactly happened is another story. I remember being in the hospital and the word "baby' seemed to be everwhere, on the screen behind me on the news....babies crying in the waiting room. I was eight weeks pregnant and still felt like a virgin. Did I think of an abortion? Yes. I think anyone does in a moment of panick, just wanting the unthinkable to disappear. Somehow when I would I would force myself to watch graphic videos on abortion severing the ties of any thoughts that that would be my child. And somehow amidst all of this, I loved the little heartbeat I first heard in my dr.'s office "thump, thump, thump" it echoed in the room, in my ears, in my soul. Tears streamed from my eyes as often they would the next nine months. What will people think? Of all the people I knew that "slept around" why was it that I bore, what I felt, was the Scarlett Letter? I remember the morning I awoke to The Bump. It was there. It was coming. There was no turning back. I lay there and stared at it and wanted to see my stomach flat the way it was. It was evidence of my sin. It was evidence that I wasn't perfect. "But I said no, I said no" I wanted to declare to everyone that saw me. I would go into Starbucks and hide my hand without the ring that validated The Bump. Babies were everywhere all of the sudden, on t.v. shows, on the streets, in the stores. I would often lay in bed for days in tears wondering why I couldn't be like every other 27 year old as my roommates went to get pedicures, hopped flights to Cobo, I was throwing up morning and night. My baby shower I felt was a "We Are So Proud Of You" smash - and while all of my friends and family gathered around me in utter support, it never took away the shame I felt. The anger towards her father - the injustice of it all. I was definately not the "cute pregnant" person. I think it was my lack of movement from the shock, the "Oh God let the days pass, December is forever away", the "how big am I going to get?!"
Looking at my daughter now I consider her a miracle. Every event that had to happen in order for her to be convieved by her Father had to happen. I feel like she looks nothing like me. With her blonde hair and blue eyes I tell her she's an angel, hence why she didn't inherit mom's green eyes and red hair.
If I had known during the ten months what was to come......and there was a small whisper "Just hang on. Just hang on." My sweet brother pulled me aside once "Why do you walk around embarassed? Be proud of yourself, carry your head high".
We went to the park today with "Nana" and her cousins and she ran through the field full of laughter and life. Thank God for that night. In the seemingly "no"s He gave me the best gift ever. Sometimes I feel so unworthy that she's mine ( not to mention terrified). She's growing so fast and she will be two. Two! Sometimes I miss her smallness and her sweet little cry "wha, wha" when she was weeks old. I miss her lying on my chest, this new to the world baby with an I.V. in her arm all swaddled. I wish I had savored it, been more brave at the time and not held her with tears straming down my eyes wondering how we will make it.
It is good to love someone more than yourself. Gone are the days where I am more important (though Oh God I wish I were still less selfish.) The thought of her never coming makes me cringe to think of life without her - work - dinner - movies. That was life. Bible studies. Now it's stories, watching the world through her eyes, the joy I find each morning waking up to her. The new words she says, the "Mama" that all mothers know is the best word ever.
Her spirit, ever so sensitive, ever so sweet. So pure, so untainted by the world, so carefree and child like, something we all should be more of.
It is good.
It is well.
It was a miracle in disguise. If there are storms in your life, know that behind them there just might be that rainbow that hasn't quite come. And not only a rainbow but a map that will lead you to a pot of gold. And the winds will pass, the storm subside, and a gift may be revealed....
