Aaron and I knew we wanted to have kids, and like every good thing, we had to wait a long time to have a baby. Not by choice, but never the less, it took us almost a year and a half after we started trying to finally have Caden.
This obviously was very difficult for me especially since there was nothing medically wrong with either one of us. Aaron was unbelievably supportive. He never once got frustrated with my sadness, never once told me to get over it and just relax. He prayed for me, held me when I cried, and was in general the kindest man you’d ever meet. Every time I hoped I was pregnant and the test came up negative, he gave me a hug and a cheerful face and said, “it’s not always going to be this way! We’ll have our baby.”
We went and saw Juno last winter and I cried through what is, in reality, in a very funny movie. Jennifer Garner’s heart broken childless woman trying to adopt broke my heart. Her pain at not having a baby struck waayyyy too close to home. I sobbed through the movie, I sobbed in the parking lot, I sobbed for two hours when we got home…
“Why am I not pregnant?” I cried.
“I don’t know sweetie, it’s not always going to be like this,” Aaron replied.
He held me and prayed for me like he’d done dozens of times since we started trying to have a baby.
A few weeks later I woke up very very early in the morning with a horrible head cold. The kind only really good, Nyquil-ish alcohol ridden drugs can relieve. I stacked up my dosage of Sudafed, Nyquil and Afrin and had a small check in my spirit. It wasn’t time to worry just yet, but we had tried to get pregnant that month, and these were some fairly potent drugs especially all piled together. I should take a pregnancy test, I know it’s going to be negative, but better safe than have a child born with flippers because I loaded up with Afrin nose spray in the first weeks of pregnancy.
I used the pregnancy test like I’d used tests probably ten times before, laid my head on the counter and waited for the negative to show, Nyquil dose poised in my hand. Two minutes later I flipped over the test and almost passed out, it showed positive. No way. Unbelievable!
I went in to a soundly sleeping Aaron, and tapped his shoulder. “Um, honey? Ummm can you wake up? We need to talk?” Aaron startled out of a dream and came wide awake, thinking I’d been sick and needed help. “Are you ok!?” he slurred.
“What do we do!?”
That’s the day I found out my husband was going to be become a father. (In his defense, he rallied and came up with better responses. It was like 5am.)
To Aaron: I couldn’t have asked for a better father for my children. You are endlessly servant hearted, endlessly patient (both with Caden and I). To the man who does the night time Caden shift, who scrubs toilets, who takes beautiful photo’s, who is always encouraging, always ready with kindness and love, I couldn’t be more proud to be your wife, and the mother of your kids (present and eventually forthcoming). I promise next time I find out I’m pregnant, I’ll wait until after 6am to tell you. I love you honey, Happy Father’s Day.