Cody, Kaylea & Ella Gaines will soon become Cody, Kaylea, Ella & Another Baby Gaines.
Family of 3 becomes Family of 4. Only Child becomes sibling. Studio becomes nursery.
You can take some time to soak that in if you need to. You'll probably travel through a realm of shock, confusion, uncontrollable laughter, a round of sobs, slip back into shock, and then back to sobs. Or maybe that was just me.
I should begin by saying that I've been taking pregnancy tests since the middle of June. I was a mood swinging, cramping, excessively sweating fool. I felt that old familiar exhaustion creeping back up, and I could only remember one other time in my life that I had felt that way. I was falling asleep sitting up in the recliner in the middle of the day, sleeping when Ella slept, and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow at night. I repeatedly informed Cody that something was off and he shrugged and said "You're in charge of two kids during the day, we had Stella for a week straight at camp and there's been no break since. I think you're just worn out." "Okay, Dear" I said, then opted to ignore Cody and buy a pregnancy test... which was negative. Over the next week or so, I noticed my patience levels with my niece were just out of control... I struggle with letting her be a kid as it is, but I was a special kind of Malificent to her some days. After an attitude check and lengthy (shrugged off) apology to Stella... I took another test. Still negative. So after a slammed door and a hot flash, I called a doctor because clearly something was wrong with my hormones and I was pre-menopausal. I called a doctor that family friend recommended and was told I couldn't be seen until July 24th, and then if I was pregnant I couldn't be seen at all. "No problem. No pregnancies here." Famous last words.
On June 30th, I woke up in my usual state of sluggishness, and had some cramping... it felt a lot like ovulation cramps, and I know if you're not a girl that won't mean anything to you. Intrigued, I grabbed an ovulation test from under the counter. "Why did you have ovulation tests under the counter?" Well, they were meant to be used as a preventative measure after my next cycle... but because of nursing Ella, I didn't know when that was going to be. Anyway, I did the test... instant, immediate pink lines on the test. That was interesting and thoroughly confusing for me, considering that "ovulation" was over a month late. So I immediately sought the services of old trusty google, and one poster said "I always got positive ovulation tests when I was pregnant." Cue stomach dropping into the floor. We had to be a lunch function for Cody's work in 10 minutes, Ella wasn't dressed, and Stella's shoes were missing. Was this something I had time to deal with? Of course not, but boy howdy did I take that pregnancy test anyway. Negative. "Well, at least we're done with that," I said to myself... And then I scrambled around the house gathering babies and shoes. In a last ditch effort to find Stella's left shoe, I went back to the bathroom. There was a shoe... and another line on the pregnancy test. A line that wasn't there a mere 3 minutes before. My heart began racing, my phone rang, and Ella started crying all at the same time. I did another test, then another, then another. Double line, double line, double line. Another text from Cody saying "Uhm... just let me know when you get here." A quick glance at the clock said we were already 15 minutes late, and I left hating myself for taking the test right before a social function. I cried the whole way to the church, which made Stella cry, which made Ella cry. There was an estrogen overload in that car, and I almost called Cody and feigned an illness. I dried my tears before I called him out to the help me corral children, and planned on telling him in a few weeks, after I played dumb at the doctor and found out then. JUDGE ME.
Well... that didn't really work out for me. As soon as Cody made eye contact with me I lost it. He didn't even have to ask. Just said "You're pregnant. When did this happen?!" Tears. More tears. Collapse into his arms blubbering about New York and no break from breastfeeding. *I should add we were planning a trip to NYC for our 5 year anniversary* Cody laughed for ten minutes, probably to make me cry harder, then said "This is a good thing. Let's go eat." And just like that. I was pregnant and It was just another day for Cody.
Later that day, we sat down and actually acknowledged the bomb that those two pink lines dropped on our everyday mundane. "TWO BABIES UNDER TWO" was generally the only contribution I provided to the conversation, but eventually we cycled back around to what this meant in the more immediate tense. Did this mean weaning Ella? Did this mean we go to the doctor now, or play dumb until my appointment at the end of the month? Was there a logical first step in all of this? Well. I guess the answer is no. And truth be told, I wasn't very excited to learn that there was another human invading my womb (I think we can all agree that I'm just not a pregnancy person, okay?!) and I was avoiding the months to come like the plague. I finally called a local doctor that a few friends recommended and learned that he was taking new patients. "We can see you July 31st!" Well that's a month away, but swell. Over the next day or so, it started really bothering me that I didn't know how far along I was. Surely I was only 3 weeks, because that's when I found out with Ella, and the test last week was negative. I called the doctor back and requested bloodwork, only to be called the next day and hear "The blood test confirmed your pregnancy." The hormones spoke before I could stop them and I said something along the lines of "Well I could have peed on another stick to know that..." I ended the conversation frustrated and irritated, but still a little relieved (I dare say excited) to know that this was the real deal. It made me happy to feel happy about this tiny fetus, instead of tears and confusion. Thirty minutes later, my phone rang and the doctor's office basically said "Hey, we still have your blood, so we're going to run the HCG and Progesterone, but it'll be tomorrow before we know anything."
The next day was our fourth wedding anniversary. Around 10:30, I got an email that said the HCG levels showed I was 5 weeks along (?!?!?!?!) and that they were prescribing progesterone because my levels came back dangerously low. There were phone calls and reassurances that lasted most of the day, but I was still extremely upset. I cried for most of the day, got extremely sick from the pill, and had an overall sense of despair. How could this happen? How could it be that when I finally get excited about this tiny fetus, bad news floods our ears? Trust. A sweet word laid upon my heart in the midst of my sadness. I took on a nonchalant attitude about it all toward everyone else, saying things like "It is what it is," and "Whatever happens, happens." While my journals and time alone were filled with fierce and forceful prayers for life over this baby. It's amazing how a mother can become such a lioness when it comes to one of her young. I plead with the Lord for a beating heart and a healthy pregnancy. It was a different kind of prayer from the early days with Ella. I think the prayers with her stemmed from fear, while these prayers stemmed from determination and boldness. This baby was going to live, and I was going to make sure of it. You will never BELIEVE what happened Sunday at church. I slipped in late just in time to hear the second to last song. What song was it? Never Once. If you don't know why that might be significant to me, you need to go WAY back to my first pregnancy blog and read through it. I made it through half of the first verse before I was in full on revival sobs. It was a sweet, tender moment with the Lord, one that required repentance for my lack of trust, and one of affirmation that the Lord is sovereign. A different part of the song stuck out to me this time, and I've written it all over everything I see frequently: "Carried By Your Constant Grace, Held within Your Perfect Peace." Sobs. Even now. And from then on, I really was okay. I wasn't fake okay, guarded okay, or timid okay. It was just going to be fine, and I knew it. After what felt like the longest weekend in the world (As in playing nonchalant at Ella's party that I wasn't beside myself with stress,) I went back to the doctor for follow-up bloodwork. I waited all day long, no phone call. The next morning, I called because I couldn't stand it another minute, and got the answering service for two hours. A frustrated email and three hours later, I got a phone call from the nurse. "Hey Kaylea! Everything looks good. Your HCG is registering at 6-7 weeks along, and your progesterone looks great!" Let's all breathe a collective sigh of relief together.
And that was all she wrote. As it stands, I don't know exactly how far along I am, nor do I know my due date. Based on the information I have, we're looking at Early March (probably late February.) An ultrasound will give me those answers, but that isn't until July 31st. I am aware that July 31st was well over a month ago to those of you reading this now, but I'm writing this on July 10th, and my plan is to just push "Publish" when we announce the news. I don't have a lot of answers, but I am confident in the health of this tiny little life in my womb. I am shocked that we're so far along, and I don't know why it took so long to get a positive pregnancy test, but in the grand scheme of things, I don't care. We are infatuated with this tiny love, and while maybe I regret that it took almost losing it, we are so blessed and thankful for it now. With Ella, I had a gut feeling that she was a girl, and I'm having that same gut feeling that this one is a boy. SO if I type "him," it's totally an accident. We clearly don't know the gender of our 7 week old fetus.
I think that's all for now. I'll only be updating once a month with this baby, as a weekly pregnancy update gets old quickly, and I dare say it's impossible with a one year old. I hope you're ready to venture through this with us again, because ready or not, here comes another Gaines!
Later that day, we sat down and actually acknowledged the bomb that those two pink lines dropped on our everyday mundane. "TWO BABIES UNDER TWO" was generally the only contribution I provided to the conversation, but eventually we cycled back around to what this meant in the more immediate tense. Did this mean weaning Ella? Did this mean we go to the doctor now, or play dumb until my appointment at the end of the month? Was there a logical first step in all of this? Well. I guess the answer is no. And truth be told, I wasn't very excited to learn that there was another human invading my womb (I think we can all agree that I'm just not a pregnancy person, okay?!) and I was avoiding the months to come like the plague. I finally called a local doctor that a few friends recommended and learned that he was taking new patients. "We can see you July 31st!" Well that's a month away, but swell. Over the next day or so, it started really bothering me that I didn't know how far along I was. Surely I was only 3 weeks, because that's when I found out with Ella, and the test last week was negative. I called the doctor back and requested bloodwork, only to be called the next day and hear "The blood test confirmed your pregnancy." The hormones spoke before I could stop them and I said something along the lines of "Well I could have peed on another stick to know that..." I ended the conversation frustrated and irritated, but still a little relieved (I dare say excited) to know that this was the real deal. It made me happy to feel happy about this tiny fetus, instead of tears and confusion. Thirty minutes later, my phone rang and the doctor's office basically said "Hey, we still have your blood, so we're going to run the HCG and Progesterone, but it'll be tomorrow before we know anything."
The next day was our fourth wedding anniversary. Around 10:30, I got an email that said the HCG levels showed I was 5 weeks along (?!?!?!?!) and that they were prescribing progesterone because my levels came back dangerously low. There were phone calls and reassurances that lasted most of the day, but I was still extremely upset. I cried for most of the day, got extremely sick from the pill, and had an overall sense of despair. How could this happen? How could it be that when I finally get excited about this tiny fetus, bad news floods our ears? Trust. A sweet word laid upon my heart in the midst of my sadness. I took on a nonchalant attitude about it all toward everyone else, saying things like "It is what it is," and "Whatever happens, happens." While my journals and time alone were filled with fierce and forceful prayers for life over this baby. It's amazing how a mother can become such a lioness when it comes to one of her young. I plead with the Lord for a beating heart and a healthy pregnancy. It was a different kind of prayer from the early days with Ella. I think the prayers with her stemmed from fear, while these prayers stemmed from determination and boldness. This baby was going to live, and I was going to make sure of it. You will never BELIEVE what happened Sunday at church. I slipped in late just in time to hear the second to last song. What song was it? Never Once. If you don't know why that might be significant to me, you need to go WAY back to my first pregnancy blog and read through it. I made it through half of the first verse before I was in full on revival sobs. It was a sweet, tender moment with the Lord, one that required repentance for my lack of trust, and one of affirmation that the Lord is sovereign. A different part of the song stuck out to me this time, and I've written it all over everything I see frequently: "Carried By Your Constant Grace, Held within Your Perfect Peace." Sobs. Even now. And from then on, I really was okay. I wasn't fake okay, guarded okay, or timid okay. It was just going to be fine, and I knew it. After what felt like the longest weekend in the world (As in playing nonchalant at Ella's party that I wasn't beside myself with stress,) I went back to the doctor for follow-up bloodwork. I waited all day long, no phone call. The next morning, I called because I couldn't stand it another minute, and got the answering service for two hours. A frustrated email and three hours later, I got a phone call from the nurse. "Hey Kaylea! Everything looks good. Your HCG is registering at 6-7 weeks along, and your progesterone looks great!" Let's all breathe a collective sigh of relief together.
And that was all she wrote. As it stands, I don't know exactly how far along I am, nor do I know my due date. Based on the information I have, we're looking at Early March (probably late February.) An ultrasound will give me those answers, but that isn't until July 31st. I am aware that July 31st was well over a month ago to those of you reading this now, but I'm writing this on July 10th, and my plan is to just push "Publish" when we announce the news. I don't have a lot of answers, but I am confident in the health of this tiny little life in my womb. I am shocked that we're so far along, and I don't know why it took so long to get a positive pregnancy test, but in the grand scheme of things, I don't care. We are infatuated with this tiny love, and while maybe I regret that it took almost losing it, we are so blessed and thankful for it now. With Ella, I had a gut feeling that she was a girl, and I'm having that same gut feeling that this one is a boy. SO if I type "him," it's totally an accident. We clearly don't know the gender of our 7 week old fetus.
I think that's all for now. I'll only be updating once a month with this baby, as a weekly pregnancy update gets old quickly, and I dare say it's impossible with a one year old. I hope you're ready to venture through this with us again, because ready or not, here comes another Gaines!
***Update*** Our Doctor's Appointment on the 31st went wonderfully, we were measuring 9 weeks along, putting our due date in the first couple of days of March. The doctor told us to prepare for a February birth!
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