The Concert that Changed Our Lives
February 12, 2015
Taylor had been telling me for the better part of a year about his friend from high school who has this amaaaaazing band (his words). I kind of shrugged it off because, honestly, who doesn’t have a friend from high school in a band?
So several months later when I told him about this group I found on Spotify named Penny and Sparrow that he had to listen to, he just glared at me.
Yes, same band. We’ve been obsessed ever since.
I saw they were playing a show by us back in December, so I immediately bought tickets as a fun surprise for my guy. What started as a normal date night morphed into a weekend extravaganza. We tacked on a hotel stay/golf Groupon we’d purchased in the summer and ended up with dinner, a show, and overnight stay without small children.
It was blissfulness.
We even selfied in the mirror before we dropped the chillens off.
(Hutton couldn’t make it into the picture. He was too busy unrolling and eating all of the hotel’s toilet paper.)
Many are the plans in a person’s heart…
For the last few years, Taylor and I have been discussing adoption.
Do we want to adopt? Do we want to foster? What is our part in the orphan crisis?
I’ve always kind of leaned towards 2 homegrown kids and 2 adopted kids, but nothing has ever been set in stone. And then when our #2 turned out to be a boy, we toyed around with the idea of trying again for a girl and then adopting.
We’ve never had in-depth discussions about our plans, just heart thoughts and the occasional sharing of a cool adoption story/blog post.
I mean, our youngest just turned one year old for goodness sake, so we had all the time in the world.
Or so we thought.
Something embarrassing you should know about me is that I take pregnancy tests like they’re going out of style. I stock up every time I’m at the Dollar Tree because $1. This compulsion probably stems from Beckett being such a surprise; regardless, it’s an irrational and embarrassing habit. As long as I have the tiniest shred of evidence or any sign of pregnancy symptoms, I allow myself to take one.
And on December 31st, 2014, I “felt fat”. That was literally my excuse. (I didn’t say it had to be good evidence.)
I pulled 1 of the 8,137 tests out from under my counter and took it…and then walked away because I knew I couldn’t actually be pregnant. No one who is still nursing AND on birth control gets pregnant.
Buuuuut per the usual, I defied odds. (Or “pulled a Sarah Brooks” as my friend called it.)
My eyes all but popped out of my head when I came back several minutes later and saw 2 pink lines lit up on the test.
I immediately grabbed my 2 half-dressed kids, loaded them up in the car, and drove straight to Walgreens.
It was 4pm on New Year’s Eve and there I stood: a frazzled mom with a gigantic baby on my hip, yelling at my 3 year old to put the toys down and stand next to me at the checkout as I laid a 3-pack of digital pregnancy tests and a bottle of prenatal vitamins on the counter.
The teenage cashier took the scene in, rung me up silently, and whispered a hesitant, “Uh…have a good new year, ma’am.” as I walked away. He genuinely looked terrified.
3 more positive home pregnancy tests later, I pulled out my calendar to figure out how this had happened. How – between Taylor’s business trip and family Christmases – this could even have taken place. And then I remembered: our beloved Penny and Sparrow show. (And the antibiotics I’d taken the month before, but that’s neither here nor there….)
It was then I realized: on our very first overnight date in over a year, WE MADE ANOTHER CHILD. We’re never going on va(or stay)cations again.
About 20 minutes after confirming for the 4th time that I was indeed pregnant, Taylor walked in the door from work. Instead of coming up with some clever way to announce our new child, he said,
“Why are you being so weird right now?”
and I said,
“How much do you love me? Is it a lot? Like a lot, a lot? Because I’m pregnant.”
He responded with long, hard, doubled-over laughter.
Which, if you’re counting reactions to each child, looks a lot like this:
1st child: nervous excitement.
2nd child: elation.
3rd child: hysterical laughter.
…but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails
Me from 2 years ago is kind of mad at me today. Because 2 years ago, we were wanting a second child so badly and it just wasn’t happening (according to our time frame, at least). It took a lot of months and a lot of disappointment.
But, alas. If I’ve learned anything over the past 4 years or anything about the timing of our children, it’s that
a) I am never ever ever in control
b) I’d make the WORST BIRTH CONTROL SPOKESPERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD
c) God’s timing is always better than mine. Always.
After the initial shock and hyperventilation, I immediately thanked God for this tiny one. He answered a prayer we hadn’t even begun praying yet – the decision of whether our 3rd child would be natural or adopted. He’s cool like that. He can answer prayers on our hearts that haven’t even left our lips.
So, yes, we will have 2 babies in diapers. Yes, this now makes 2 out of 3 children conceived against all odds. Yes, there’s a good chance this baby will be born in August, making 4 out of 5 of our family’s birthdays in the same month. And, yes, we are excited. Even if it’s another boy. (Especially if it’s another boy.)
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some minivans to test drive.