Spreading the Good News

During quiet mornings and long train rides, I often indulged in fantasies to keep my mind from dwelling on bad memories, which it often did when left on its own. I often fantasized about living somewhere in a quiet town somewhere in Italy. My kids would be running around our little vineyard while I would be reading a book in our sunny porch overlooking our flower and herb garden which my husband would be tending to - but that’s another story. Another recurring fantasy I often indulged in was on how I would spread my news of pregnancy in a creative fashion. For my husband, I often practiced in front of the mirror the look of tearful glee that I would wear that would make him cry and jump with joy. For our families, I planned on giving them a whole bunch of positive pregnancy test sticks for Christmas presents. Disgusting, I know, but I knew they would appreciate it.

As it turned out, I never got to use my tearful glee look because I was too stunned to feel anything, let alone try to put on a convincing dramatic face. I never got positives, not even on ovulation sticks and so to see two lines on not one, but four (I had to be sure) pregnancy tests was too incredible to believe.

OK, I’m lying. I knew on Christmas Eve that I was with child. In fact, I don’t think I slept a wink until Christmas morning because I was too excited to pee on a stick. That was how confident I was, not because I haven’t yet learned my lesson after hoping and getting disappointed every month, but because I had great faith. And the Signs kinda helped too.

The minor signs were sore nippies, weepiness, extreme fatigue, and peeing all the time but I had those all the other months so I didn’t think they were a big deal. Heck, I even had more pregnancy symptoms during the months that I was not pregnant.

I chart my cycle every month and when I saw that my fertile days fall on the week of the Immaculate Conception, a seed of hope was planted.
That was Sign #1.

When I learned that Day 14 (the day when I usually start peeing on sticks, which means that this would be the day that we’ll know we’re pregnant if we were) falls on Christmas day, the seed of hope sprouted the first sign of life.
That was Sign #2.

Last month, when I was mourning the arrival of my period, my husband told me this:
"I know deep in my heart that a baby will come, especially when she's this wanted. I'd like to call it our Christmas miracle. I know God is with us, as He's ever been." The leaves started to grow.
That was Sign #3.

During Christmas Eve Mass, the gospel was "Behold, the virgin shall be with child and shall bear a son. They shall call His name Immanuel." And there was a huge poster on top of the altar saying the same words. I knew I was hardly a virgin, but that's when I knew. And that was when our plant bore fruit.
That was Sign #4.

Now, what woman of great faith wouldn’t think that she was knocked up after all those Signs?

Going back to the part about telling my parents, I was too excited and so I just blurted a text message to my brother hinting about it, which was evidently too obvious because he hurriedly told my parents without confirming it with me. I forgave him for he was just as excited as I was. When I phoned them, Mama was speechless with happiness and believe me, that doesn’t happen too often, and Papa was in tears. It was exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

Which was too much to say for my husband’s reaction. He didn’t exactly jump for joy when I told him the news. He just stared at me blankly while I cried. I was ready to forgive him for his reaction, or lack of it, because it was indeed too early to be woken up on a holiday and I knew that he’s not a morning person, but when a few more moments have passed and he was still looking at me with the same blank expression, I was prepared to blow his head off (crazy hormones manifested early). But that was when he admitted that he wasn’t sure if I was crying because it was another negative or if I was crying because it was positive. He thought that pregnancy sticks worked the same way as ovulation sticks where the test line should be as dark as or darker than the control line for them to be positive. And since the test line was indeed very faint, it was an easy mistake to make. We had a good laugh, said a prayer of thanks to the birthday Celebrant who is the reason behind our Christmas Miracle, and then proceeded to celebrate the best Christmas day of our lives to date.




This is our little precious at 4 weeks.