If you missed it, read the beginning of this story, called “Finding Out I’m Pregnant.”
How I Told My Husband He’s Going to Be a Father

After the shock wore off and I ceased gaping at the wonderful pee stick that announced the good news that I was, in fact, for the first time, pregnant, I set down the pregnancy test and skipped into the bedroom. I crawled in bed next to my husband, on HIS side, and said softly, “Honey, I’m pregnant.”

He stirred as my words sunk in. “Really?” he asked.

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The happiest day of my life.

The happiest day of my life after my wedding day and before the day my son was born, was the day I found out I was pregnant.

I have mentioned before that my husband and I had wanted to have a baby for quite some time. From the first time we agreed to try to conceive to the moment of that positive pregnancy test was nearly three years.

I had spent a week at work feeling tired and strangely out of breath. I remember telling my boss as I was cleaning one day that I felt weird and jokingly told her, “Ha! Maybe I’m pregnant!” She said, “You better take a test.” I laughed it off at the time, but the more I thought about it the more I realized I had never quite felt the way I did.

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Am I a Failure? People would tell us “Once you stop trying, you’ll get pregnant.” To this day, I still don’t know how to mentally or emotionally stop trying. God instilled an innate desire to bear children within a woman. Needless to say, I was not good at following this advice. Being pregnant was all I wanted. It was all I could think about. 

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