break.

Well it's nearly midnight in the middle of my last Spring Break as a college student (hopefully!). And while I'm not participating in any wet t-shirt contests, letting strange males drink liquor from my navel or flashing strangers for "Girls Gone Wild!" I am enjoying the break nonetheless. Crazy, huh? :)

I am trying to get caught up, or ahead I suppose, on my schoolwork but Emmaline and her newfound talent of climbing are not really letting me do too much of that. It's ok though. I am doing a little here and there. My Dad has been awesome and came a couple hours on Tuesday even though he technically wasn't needed at all so I could go to the library and study . I have to take my Praxis on Saturday and I am so nervous. He's coming again tomorrow so I can study ALL day and I need it! I studied the PLT part (teacher stuff) on Tuesday so I will review a little of that but I mostly want to focus on the history part tomorrow. The history Praxis exam covers everything from the the beginning of time up to now so there is a lot to study!

Other than that, my grades in class seem to be ok. I have only made one B so far (the rest all A's) and from what I could see of everyone else's papers, I think I was pretty lucky to get that. He seemed so easygoing the whole semester and then we had this paper and it was like BAM! evil professor. I know I shouldn't be complacent but I will still be happy if I pull out a B in that class. I would love to have all A's but it's English and I have never had an issue getting A's on papers and if he wasn't satisfied then I really don't know what more I could have done. I did all the readings I was supposed to do, have been to every single class on time, contribute to the class discussions and wrote a standard Naomi paper. So, I am trying to be reasonable here and accept that I will probably not be able to please him. Although, I do think I scored brownie points in the last class meeting because I knew what a comma splice was and what the past participle of "lie" is (it's "lain").

But life is going well. I am so enjoying being married. I love the security of knowing Patrick is ours forever. I always believed and trusted him before but there is something about going through the whole ceremony that just makes it official; it was the everlasting icing on our lifetime cake :) I am still tickled to call him "my husband." And he really is the best husband and Daddy. I don't know how or why I got so blessed. I really don't. I pray my sisters and Emmaline wait until a man like Patrick comes along and finds them because they deserve nothing less than the love, joy, security, comfort and peace a relationship like this can bring.

Well, I need to get back to homework. It's late but I am not ready for bed yet. I am such a party animal...

positive.

I have been thinking a lot today about this exact day a year ago, the day we found out I was having a baby. So many things run through my head when I think about it. I think about the feelings, the fears, the hopes, the worry. A year ago today my life changed. Forever.

I know waking up that Sunday morning, September 13, 2009, neither Patrick nor I had any idea what was in store for us (for that day, and for the rest of our lives). School had just started and we were settling into our routines. For some reason, I just had this nagging feeling that I might possibly be pregnant. Patrick thought I was crazy. I wanted to go tanning but something kept telling me to find out for sure whether or not I was pregnant, just in case. Patrick thought I was being dramatic. I guess it was just my Mommy instinct.

We went to WalMart to buy a test. I remember Patrick didn't want to buy a name brand because he thought it was a waste of money. He is so cheap, haha. For me, I am not above buying generic but there are just some things I want ensured good quality: brakes, medicine, and pregnancy tests.

I took the box and went into the bathroom to take the test. Patrick warned me before I went into not to mess with him. How cruel would that be, honestly? So, I quickly read over the instructions, did the steps and waited. It didn't take more than a few seconds and the stick was already reading pregnant. Needless to say, I wasn't going tanning...

I remember being shocked. I remember walking out and having a half nervous laugh and half cry telling Patrick "I'm not joking! I'm not joking!" I remember hugging him and bursting into tears. I remember being more scared than I have ever been in my life. I remember thinking "This can't be happening" and also secretly, deep down, hoping it was happening.

It was Sunday so no doctors' offices were open. I wanted a blood test. I wanted a sonogram. I wanted a letter from my fetus with a notary signature verifying this was indeed a legit pregnancy. It didn't feel real. What does a pregnant woman feel like? I mean, granted I did look pregnant but that was completely due to over indulging on Mexican and pizza, not because I was growing a human.

On Monday, I went to the clinic on campus to have a blood test. Honestly, the people that worked in the office will never know how much they did for me that morning. They didn't judge. They didn't lecture. They didn't give knowing glances. They helped me, talked with me, and cared for me. They asked me what my plans were. I don't know?! Patrick had been waiting for me in the (appropriately titled) waiting room so I went and grabbed him. I told him on the way back to the office that it was confirmed. I was having a baby. We were having a baby.

The nurse talked with me about my medications I was currently on and whether or not they were safe. I remember going through each one and her telling me the possible side effects for a growing fetus. I lost it. It was so much responsibility already. I had only had this pregnancy confirmed five minutes before and I already loved my baby so much that the side effects she was telling me about scared me to tears. She prescribed me prenatal vitamins. She recommended an OBGYN in town she used. She hugged me and sent me on my way.

Patrick and I decided to skip Biology and we laid in my bed talking about how our lives were about to be flipped over, turned inside out and thrown for a loop. Obviously, I would be having this baby. Not doing so was never even a consideration. But what about after the baby was here? Would it be wise to raise it ourselves? Would it be selfish? Of course I wanted my baby but I had no job, no husband, no degree, and no time to fix any of that. Was I only thinking of myself when I wanted to raise it myself?

Although we talked about adoption, I think Patrick and I both knew we would always raise this baby. It was ours. We made it. At the time with everything thrown at us at once and not having a clue what we were going to do, we wanted every option discussed. Looking back now, I am sad we ever even talked about it but I know we were just being mature and looking at this from every angle trying to decide what was best.

It wasn't until September 25 that I would be able to get in and see my new OBGYN. He discussed the appointments, checked over my medicines, and went through our medical histories. He was about to leave when he asked if there was anything else we needed. I just remember looking at him and being so lost. I told him the truth: I was hoping this visit would make the baby seem more real to me. I was hoping I would feel more pregnant. I think he knew what I meant and what I needed. He squeezed me in to get an ultrasound and for that I will forever love that man!

A pretty lady came to get me and Patrick and she took us into the room to get a scan. She inserted the wand and I looked up at the monitor and I saw my baby. My baby. My child was right there swimming along, growing, beating... being. I cried. In that moment, I became a Mommy. Patrick became a man. And we became a family.