August 18, 2015

Dear Baby Pass,

I woke up at 4:45 a.m. this morning to find out if you existed. Your dad and I were planning to go to the gym before work, so I wanted to have plenty of time to let the little test strip do its thing before we left.

I ran downstairs, grabbed a plastic party cup (ain’t no party like a pregnancy-testing pee party), ran back upstairs, and peed. I dipped the little cheapo test strip in for three seconds, then set it on a Kleenex and distracted myself from looking at it by brushing my teeth. It had five minutes to sit before it would tell us whether you were there or not.

“Boo… BOO! Wake up!” I said to your dad. “We have to look at the test!” He woke up, foggy with sleep, and moved ever so slowly into the bathroom. We looked at each other. This was it. This could be the moment our lives would change forever.

We looked down. We saw the control line. And we saw a faint, but distinct, second line. Could it be? You were really in there?

I immediately started shaking and crying and burying my face in your dad’s shoulder as I hugged him. My breathing got fast and shallow. He kept saying, “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” I couldn’t believe it, either. I mean, we know how babies are made. We did the right things on purpose. We wanted this so very much. And yet, when we truly realized it worked, we made a baby, it was so unbelievable.

We dipped another cheapo strip into the cup to double-check. Another line. Then we busted out the big gun — a fancy First Response Early Result test — and dipped that as well. Almost immediately, two clear, dark lines appeared. I was definitely, definitely, definitely pregnant.

I snapped a photo of all three tests lined up. It was 5:15 a.m.

We still went to the gym, believe it or not. We were pumped full of endorphins by the news, so working off some of that energy just made sense.

According to the app I had been using to track my periods, I was exactly four weeks along that day. That means you had already done the following in your short little life as a zygote/blastocyst/embryo:

– Visited Chelan with our friends, including going mountain biking, swimming, and tubing.

– Gone to the Taylor Swift concert, aka the most amazing concert ever. I promise I will take you to one when you’re on the outside, too, so you can better appreciate it.

Visited Michigan and hung out with all your extended family members on your Grandpa and Grandma Snodgrass’ side.

– Visited Chicago, watched the Air & Water Show, and ate a ton of amazing food.

– Had dinner with your Grandma and Grandpa Pass, who said they would totally know when I was pregnant. I guess they didn’t! (We didn’t even know at that point.)

I downloaded a new app, Ovia Pregnancy, to figure out when you were due: April 26, 2016. My mom would be getting a grandchild for her birthday (April 30) next year! We got so excited to tell our parents about you, but decided to wait several weeks to make sure you would stick around. It would be so, so hard to keep you a secret until then.

Your dad left the gym before me, since he leaves earlier for work, and I got teary-eyed as I walked home and caught a glimpse of the beautiful sunrise. I wished I could get a good picture of it, but I only saw the edges of pink and orange light peeking above the hills of our town. I always wanted to remember the sunrise on the day we found out we were going to have you.

Later, when I got to work, I checked Instagram and found that your dad had seen the sunrise on his bike ride to work. He had snapped this photo and captioned it, “What a beautiful morning.”

Baby Pass, this is what the sunrise looked like on the morning that we experienced the happiest moment of our lives — or at least the happiest moment until the moment we meet you.

Love,
Mama

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s