One year ago today, on a warmer April day than this, your father & I found out about your existence.
In November of 2010, we lost a pregnancy. This loss left us feeling crushed, empty, and wondering why. Although we were still so young, and the pregnancy had not been planned, we had been excited to become parents, and start the next chapter of our love story together.
I took the pregnancy test in my work bathroom on my lunch break. Clearly, patience was a virtue your mother lacked. When that little stick showed a little pink positive, I could hardly believe it. I told myself to calm down, and snuck out to Shoppers to buy another one. I wanted to be absolutely certain before I allowed my heart to believe it.
When I took that second test, I felt such an overwhelming feeling of happiness. I stayed in the bathroom a few minutes and danced around that tiny little stall, and relished in the idea of telling your father. I also thought about the how. How I would do it, how I could make it memorable for both of us, without having to do much planning. Your mother is no good at surprises, (comes down to a lack of patience again) so I knew I had to figure out a way to tell him that night, and had no time to make an elaborate plan.
I went back to my desk, but no work was done that day. Instead, I snuck out to the mall once AGAIN (geesh, I sure hope no one from work reads this) to purchase a card. There were no cards specially made for an occassion such as this, but I did manage to find one, covered in glitter with a stork that read “Special Delivery”. The card which now holds a special place in your baby book.
I wrote a simple message on the inside, saying “And our love story continues – WE ARE PREGNANT! Congratulations, Daddy”, put it in my purse, and watched the clock tick for the remaining hours of my work day. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It felt as though time was standing still.
When I was finally home, I paced waiting for the return of your father. When that time came, I barely allowed him the novelty of washing his hands before telling him to sit on the couch. Then, I gave him the card. And then, your father cried. Your father cried tears of happiness, and hugged me so tight like he never wanted to let go.
And he didn’t, not through that whole 9 months of anticipation, not for these 4 and a half months that have followed, and I know he will continue to hold onto me, and now onto you, our little girl, for the rest of our lives.
You are the greatest gift we could have ever asked for. What we could have never have anticipated, McKenna, is just how perfectly beautiful you are. You were so very wanted. You will always be wanted. You will always have a mother and a father who love you and dreamt of your existence long before you were ours. But now that you are, trust me…. we will never, ever, ever let you go.