It was Valentine's Day of 2004 when I found out I was pregnant the first time.
I had stopped at the dollar store on the way home from work, and promptly gone into Josh's bathroom. I normally avoided his washroom, simply because I hated the burgundy and forest green floral shower curtain. I still wonder why I went in there.
As one pink line turned into two, I remember thinking, "Well, there is no turning back now. We are going to be parents."
At ten weeks pregnant, I was working at Applebees and also choreographing a 7-8th grade musical production at Redlands Christian. Memory fails me, but it had to do with a family of ducklings.
Somewhere between "It's a Poultry Tale" and "The Wild Goose Chase", I felt sick and went to the bathroom to slash some water on my face. I then noticed I had passed a small shriveled-up sack, with a perfectly formed white baby inside.
Sitting at urgent care as they took my blood pressure, I held that mass in my hands wrapped in kleenex, thinking it was the first and only time I would get to hold my baby.
Little did I realize we were having twins.
One perfectly formed bundle of joy, heart beating loudly, was still in my womb. We left for Hawaii the next day, and I clutched my new found ultrasound pictures the entire trip there.
Two babies already lost, with this one in trouble.
Suffice to say, I have wondered if the problem is genetic or possibly X-linked.
15 vials of blood drawn on Tuesday will hopefully paint the picture.
Please pray with me that it is not genetic. I am not sure that it matters much because I am reliably certain I will never go through IVF again. Still, I worry about it being passed on to Kayden and Bryce's children.