The Ardis Family

I keep promising myself that I will start a new blog. As a matter of fact, I nearly did start one right after Carter was born. I began a blog post but never published it. I don't really remember why I never shared it, but I'm sure it had something to do with being a brand new sleep deprived mother. But anyway, here it is:

As I type this blog, I am listening to my son as he sleeps. He has a soft snore that sounds like a small puppy growl. Anyone who knows me would think I'd hate hearing the snoring. But with my little one, I adore it. Mostly because as long as I can hear him snoring, I know he's breathing.

It is so strange still to say that I have a son. He will be one month old this week. I wanted a child for so long. I really believed I would never have a child of my own. I believed I would never be a mother because somehow, I wasn't good enough. Those I admitted my fears to assured me that I would be a mother someday, but I found it harder and harder to believe them. Last winter, I became overwhelmingly depressed. I knew I couldn't handle yet another negative pregnancy test, so I told myself I wouldn't take any more tests.

One night in early January, my mom and her husband took my husband and me out to dinner to celebrate my husband's birthday. We went to a restaurant I've always liked, but I struggled to finish my dinner. I just didn't feel quite right. My chiropractor brother-in-law was trying to help me with my fertility issues and had given me several supplements to take. I could not finish them that night as I got ready for bed. The mere thought of swallowing pills was utterly nauseating. When I woke up the next morning, I knew I had to take a test.

I prepared myself for the inevitable negative test. I tried to tell myself it wouldn't matter when the test was negative. After all, I was testing a few days early. Why would this month be any different from any other month anyway? I had two kinds of tests. One with the pink lines, and one digital test. I took the pink line test first and saw a faint second pink line. My hands began to shake. I told myself the line was too faint to mean anything. It must be a mistake. I decided to take the second test just to be sure. This time, it read, Pregnant.

I was in shock. I knelt down on the floor and honestly didn't feel anything at all, until I suddenly burst into tears. I couldn't believe it. I was finally going to have a baby.

My whole pregnancy, I couldn't quite believe I was actually going to have a baby. I would tear up each time I saw a sonogram or hear his heart beat. I talked to him and sang to him when I was alone. I loved feeling him wiggle when he got big enough. Don't get me wrong, I was absolutely miserable for much of the pregnancy. But I loved it all the same.

When my little boy was finally born, I was absolutely overwhelmed. I was full of emotion as I heard him cry and felt the nurse place him on my chest. I was so sad to no longer have him with me. I wouldn't get to feel his wiggles anymore. I was so scared to suddenly be responsible for another human being. I was so excited to have this adorable baby in my life. And most of all, I was so absolutely positively in love with my sweet angel.