Dear Kayla,
In just under a month you will be 13 years old. THIRTEEN!!! A thousand years ago, you might have been engaged by now. A hundred years ago, you might be at the end of your education. If we were Jewish, we'd be planning a celebration to mark your entry into adulthood. But as a middle class, young Christian woman in the midwestern United States, you will be celebrating this milestone with a simple but fun party with about 20 of your closest friends.
As we near this celebration, I feel the need to tell you what a gift you are to Daddy and me. And to Blake; although, we know he'd never admit that. I cannot, however, begin the story of YOU without first putting into words a little bit about my introduction to motherhood. In otherwords, the story of your brother. I will keep it brief.
When Daddy and I decided we wanted, needed, HAD TO HAVE A BABY in our lives, it took about 6 months before we learned Blake was on the way. According to our doctor I had a "textbook pregnancy" and, after a difficult labor and delivery, a baby boy who was "perfect from head to toe." We had very little money in those days, but we were so madly in love with each other and our little boy that life was just plain good. When Blake was about 18 months old (a little less) we decided the time was right for another little one in the house. This was no gradual decision making process. There was no long discussions about the right timing. It was as if I heard a little bell in my head...well actually my heart; "PING! I MUST HAVE A SECOND BABY...RIGHT NOW!" Soon I found out I was pregnant again.
Except none of the pregnancy tests would believe me. Three pregnancy tests told me NO, but my body kept telling me YES. It was at this time (January of '93) that Blake became very sick with a stomach virus (Rotovirus) and ended up in the hospital because he became dehydrated. He was 18 months old. During one of those nights, as I sat by my baby boy's hospital bed, watching him sleep and keeping an eye on his IV's; I lost the baby that was to be his sibling. I was in incredible pain, physically, and was very confused. Remember, I wasn't supposed to be pregnant. What was all this pain? What was happening? The next morning, I called our doctor and he had me come in so he check me over. Ironically, the pregnancy test he gave me at that time came back positive. You know how sweet our doctor is. He called me on the phone and asked me to come to his office. He looked me in the eye and said "This is not news I could give you over the phone. Your test was positive but I'm afraid you've already lost the baby."
I had a very sick little boy to take care of and I was very confused about the tricks my body had played on me. When I WAS pregnant, the tests had said I wasn't. When I WASN'T pregnant anymore, the test said I was. But God's timing is always right. It took several weeks for Blake to be completely well again, so I was not able to dwell on my disappointment and heartache; I was busy taking care of Blake. By the time he was well again, the emotional pain had dulled quite a bit. Just in time to consider having another baby....
More Later...
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