The Story of a Surprise Pregnancy

One evening last October I wrote the following in my (other) journal:

“Tonight after [Phoebe’s] bath we nursed and she snuggled with me in the rocker. I sang and hummed "Teach Me to Walk in the Light" over and over and over. It's our favorite lullaby. Tonight she hummed along with me, making soft cooing noises through her binky. She was tucked into the crook of my arm and nuzzled against my chest. She loves to hold my fingers as she falls to sleep. As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier her grasp became tighter and tighter. Having a baby fall asleep in your arms is the greatest honor, it says: it is safe here and I trust you. The feeling came over me that I will have more children. I don't know how or when, but it doesn't matter tonight. I am simply grateful to know that I may have the chance to rock another baby. The thought makes me happy beyond belief. I am one blessed momma.”

In other words, I was oblivious to what Heavenly Father was trying to help me understand that night. It was still nearly two weeks later when I finally clued in to the signs my body was giving me and discovered that I was 2 months pregnant! It was the most unexpected happy surprise of my life. I’m sure any mother who has longed for or waited for children will agree with me when I say there are no accidents.
Yes, there were clues. I had started to notice that while breastfeeding Phoebe I would often feel nauseated. Weird, certainly. But hormones, ya know? I was only 3 months postpartum after all. Naturally, everything in our house was still being blamed on hormones.
Typically I use Bee's nap time to conquer quiet jobs around the house, like folding clothes or eating M&M's. One day I walked into my bedroom, looked longingly at my bed and decided to lay down for a quick rest. Only, I fell into a deep deep sleep and awoke dazed and confused by Phoebe's crying in the next room. After several days of this I started to think I was becoming extremely lazy. Unless. 
Our niece Ellie turned the grand ole age of 3 and her momma threw a darling little birthday party for her, equipped with a yummy dessert table chockablock full of naughty things I would normally devour at one such celebration. But that night, I wasn't even remotely tempted by any of those treats. What? Who? Impostor! So that had me thinking. 
I scanned the calendar events on my iPad searching for little signs that might help this magical mystery tour along. BD went out of town, here. DeeDee and I talked about this and that right around, then. I counted back using the very scientific method of my fingers. I scratched my head some more. And started to wonder.
The only way to put this nonsense to rest was to actually take a test. I spent the weekend waiting for an opportune time to sneak away to the pharmacy alone. I decided not to breathe a word of my delusions to BD because after years of negative pregnancy tests, why open a door that might not need opening? No such occasion presented itself. In the meantime more nausea, more tiredness, more food repulsions. And..I knew.
On a brisk fall Monday morning after BD had kissed us goodbye, I strapped Bee into her car-seat announcing Adventure! and drove straight to the pharmacy. I cried the whole way there. Because I knew. I cried the whole way home. Because I knew. I put Bee down for a nap and hunkered into the bathroom. I bought several tests of varying brands, because that's what you do. I read the instructions meticulously even though it was highly unnecessary and got straight to work. The paper says to wait at least 2 minutes before reading the results. Well, I'm here to say that's a long 2 minutes. 
Only it didn't take longer than 3 seconds for that second little line to appear. I stood over the sink staring at this positive home pregnancy test in my hand. Shock, awe, and wonder rushed through my veins. I was finally having that bathroom moment where suddenly the world teeters on its axis and you feel like you've been let-in on the greatest secret of all time. Only you and God and that baby know. Clutching my mushy postpartum stomach I took an exasperated breath and laughed out loud through happy tears.
I was terribly confused. For one, we didn't think I could ever get pregnant on my own. Birth control was far off my radar, and honestly, so was baby making (ha!). I mean, it was SO hard to achieve a single pregnancy with Phoebe. We were elated that IVF was an option for us and it had worked once! BD and I had just barely had a conversation about how much and how fast we wanted to save money for the inevitable next round of IVF. For two, I was exclusively breastfeeding and most women don't even...sigh. The short if it; I'm happy to say that I am not most women!
Then there was the business of sharing this wonderful (and shocking, and scary) news with my baby daddy, who was in the middle of his work day, nestled in his cubicle, probably on the phone, completely oblivious to what is happening back home. This would be fun! I schemed and schemed but my resources were limited and so was my energy (duh! because I am pregnant!). I gathered the tests, a sharpie, and a clean diaper. 
BD's normal routine when getting home from work included swooping Bee up for millions of hugs and kisses and holy cow momma! She has grown an inch today! We have the cutest baby in the world! kind of nonsense. He changes her diaper while I finish dinner (and sometimes by "finish" I mean preheating the oven, and by "dinner" I mean frozen pizza). When he arrived home that night Bee was still dozing in her afternoon nap. I had to keep my act together for another 25 minutes until she finally woke up. Torture. I asked BD to get her up and change her diaper and I would be in to feed her in just a minute. You must know, I am not cool under pressure so I awkwardly followed him to the nursery and watched him from the doorway like some sort of diaper changing stalker.
Eventually he discovered the diaper with a special message engraved in Sharpie from Bee saying "I'm going to be a big sister!" He screamed "WHAT?!" so loud it startled and scared Phoebe half to death. I came bursting into the room with a fist full of pregnancy tests jumbling my words together like a shake of Boogle. Phoebe was hysterical and confused and trying to roll off the changing table. Brad was attempting to keep her down and give me a hug all while trying not to faint. All three of us were crying. Looking back, it was a pretty great moment. One that would change the course of all our lives much sooner than this little family ever expected. Oh how wonderful life's surprises can truly be.