When I was trying to conceive baby #2 and kept miscarrying, no matter when it happened, I was devastated. Maybe it was my coping mechanism, but I would find myself carrying Gavin in his carrier, 3 bags of groceries, and a gallon of milk up the basement stairs and think to myself, "I am not sure how I would have managed if I was pregnant. I have enough on my plate as it is." Or Gavin would go through a phase where he would need me more than usual, was more active, or more labor intensive, and I would think to myself, "God must have seen this coming and knew that I wouldn't have been able to handle this as well if I was dealing with morning sickness, being exhausted, or big and pregnant. It wasn't like my pregnancy with Joey was perfect but, when I was barfing my brains out, Gavin was content to watch an episode of Little Einsteins. I wasn't exhausted because Gavin was sleeping until 8:30 or 9:00am. And by the time I was big and pregnant, Gavin was thriving on being independent. So, really timing for my pregnancy was perfect.

I started my period last week after being taunting with just enough spotting to tease me into googling the crap out of implantation spotting. Nah. Just Aunt Flo stopping by to check out the accommodations before moving in her stuff. Disappointing? Yes. But until we get Doug's health in check, me dealing with morning sickness, going to the doctor weekly for monitoring, juggling Doug's medical appointments, all while somehow managing Gavin, Mr. I Live in Time Out, and Joey, Mr. If It Can Hurt Me, I Will Find a Way To Get It? Dare I say impossible?

As much as I want to be pregnant again, I know that God knew what was headed my way. He knew it would be too much. And now the confession: I weaned early partly so that I could start trying for #3. Whew. There. It is out. As Joey's first birthday is approaching and I think about how I should just now be weaning, I can't help but wonder if the fact that I have been trying for 8 months with no success is God's way of saying that I made a wrong decision about weaning when I did. Who am I to challenge God's plan and give Joey formula to circumvent the way things should have gone.

There is no sense in me dwelling on the decisions that were made 7 months ago but last week, as I sat in Doug's hospital room, I realized that I need to really follow God's lead. With as painful as it is to watch the pregnant world pass me by, I know that when God hands me another child, I will look back and say, "Thank you God for your perfect timing! Again!"


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