No matter what...

My prayers changed as soon as I heard those words... "you're pregnant." God, wow... that's all I can say. Wow... There's no accurate way to describe the immediate feelings that consume you when you find out you're pregnant, but the closest thing to describing how I felt went in this order: shocked, joyful, grateful, blessed.

And while visions of little hands and feet began to cloud my mind, Rachel, the nurse who had just given us the best news we could imagine, gave us the worst news that could follow... "We have to run some tests, give you an ultrasound, just to make sure nothing is wrong since you're having so much pain..." Sounds routine and reassuring, right? She wasn't done. "You may be experiencing an ectopic pregnancy." I didn't know it at that moment, but by the time she was done explaining I would hate that word and I would go from thanking God to hating Him. She explained that an ectopic pregnancy occurs when the egg attatches inside the fallopian tube and that if the pregnancy is not ended by miscarriage or abortion, then it can lead to fatal complications for the mother. She said that it may be too early to tell, because judging by the tests they'd run and my estimation of the date of my last period I was only 4 weeks along. She said the fetus may be too small to see. I was angry at her for using the term "fetus" instead of "baby" because to me, that term encourages detatchment from the child and the situation. I was angry at God that He could create and take away, and in my heart I screamed at Him that it was unfair for Him to put me in this situation. He tells us that life is sacred and that abortion is wrong, and I believe with all my heart that abortion is the worst kind of murder, but here I was being told that I may have to have an abortion to save my life. Essentially, kill my baby or both of us. I hated that such a contradiction could be possible. I did not say any of this out loud. I didn't want to ruin such a beautiful moment with my anger. One look at Nathan and I could tell he was wondering the same thing... How could this be possible? But in that look, I also saw that he was just as happy as I was. We were pregnant. A life was growing inside of me. Despite my anger I was still in awe.
Our ultrasound that day revealed nothing. Our baby was still so tiny that we could not be sure where he or she was. As we waited for Dru to pull the car around, I spoke to God. I will NOT kill my baby. I will love this child with my last breath if it comes to that. No matter what, I will love this kid with everything I have. Please, God, don't let this be an ectopic pregnancy. Please.
Nathan and I got home that night and came to tell my family face-to-face because this just wasn't the news I wanted to tell them over the phone. And when we finally went to our apartment that night, Nathan and I talked and we decided we would treat this like a normal pregnancy until we knew for sure. The next day I called around and tried to find an OB/GYN who would see me. I needed to know. I had to know. But none of them would see me until I was 10 weeks along. The pains in my stomach went away slowly over the next few days. I was 8 weeks along before I got tired of waiting and going crazy and went to see our regular doctor. She sent us for an ultrasound at the hospital. While we waited and my nerves put me at the end of my rope, I remember Nathan taking my hand and looking at me and smiling. This is when I knew that everything would be okay. I don't remember the nurses that gave us the news, but one was blond and the other had dark hair. The blond one said, "I know your doctor will want to give you the details, but I can tell you that your baby is right where he or she needs to be. You do not have an ectopic pregnancy." Just like there is no way to describe the feeling of finding out you're pregnant, or that there is a possibility that you will lose the baby, there is no way to describe the happiness that washed over me when I heard those words. Everything would be okay.
We found our OB/GYN after much searching. Her name was Dr. Tiffany Weathers, and she was possibly the second biggest blessing in those few short weeks. She was straight forward, she gave the details without making it confusing, and she broke the tension often with her sense of humor. She wasn't just a doctor, she was a friend who had all the answers.
We found out we were having a boy in July of 2010. We moved in with my mom and dad on our 1 year wedding anniversary. It was a blessing that they offered to let us live with them until we could get back on our feet because we had no idea how we could afford what was ahead. My relationship with God grew more and more each day because I relied on Him to keep my sane.
I think it was the stress I placed on myself trying to get everything ready that caused Tacoma Harrison Sorey to come into the world a month early. On Friday, November 5th, 2010, Nathan was off work and I decided to take full advantage of the day. We went to Wal-Mart that day twice for paint supplies, and the second time we were there, I was having contractions 2 minutes apart. Nathan didn't want to let me paint, but I was determined. So with our friend Zack's cat Slate playing around our feet, we taped off and began priming the walls. I took it easier than I would have normally, but I had a growing sense of urgency to finish Tacoma's room. We were supposed to have until December 1st, so Nathan wasn't in as much of a hurry as I was and that bothered me. I was impatient with him and it seemed like every little thing he'd done the last week had set me off. But that day, I made an effort to stay calm and though I was still not laid back, I wasn't as snappy as usual.
Eventually I had to stop painting. My contractions stopped coming every 2 minutes, but we called the doctor anyway. That Tuesday we'd gone to see Dr. Weathers and she'd told us, "I'll be out of town this weekend, so don't go into labor!" Ha. The on-call doctor (Dr. Martinelli) said we should see wait and see, that these were probably just Braxton Hicks contractions. But that was at 7pm and I'd been having them since 3:30 pm that day. So when I was still having contractions at 11pm, we called again. She told us to head up to the hospital. So we grabbed the bag we'd packed an hour before just in case and told my parents (who were asleep) that we were going to the hospital and we'd let them know if they needed to come up.
Fifteen minutes later I was sitting in the ER waiting room, wondering why I hadn't felt another contraction in the last 12 minutes. They weren't coming in any particular pattern, but I been having them like that for hours. After Nate gave them my information at the desk, he came to sit by me and I said, "Watch. Just my luck, now that we're here, I won't have anymore contractions and it will just be a false alarm." He gave me a little nervous laugh. Neither of us felt like paying another hospital bill just to be told something we could've found out if we'd waited just a little longer. We thought it might be Nebraska all over again. A few minutes later, after my nerves had given me that queasy feeling in my stomach and the butterflies had made many babies of their own, I was wheeled into the maternity ward room. I was so thankful for a familiar face- our nurse was Bailey Berry (we'd gone to church with her family for years). Sure enough, I was dialated to a 3 already and they decided to give me pain meds and fluids to see if it would slow down and/or stop my contractions. I was only 36 weeks pregnant, Tacoma was already measuring over 6lbs., and I was walking the line between being happy I was delivering earlier because it meant he wouldn't be 9lbs like I was and being worried that a premature delivery could mean he'd have something wrong. I remember sleeping for minutes at a time between contractions. Nothing is worse than waking up to pain like that, but it would only take seconds for me to drift back into a deep sleep. When I woke up around 5am on November 6th, Nathan was still exhausted. I knew I'd need him fully rested later that day even though the doctors wouldn't tell us one way or the other if I was going to deliver Tacoma.I called my parents. Neither of them had slept since we'd left and I could hear it in their voices. Despite that, they were at the hospital, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed within an hour, ready to be grandparents. For some reason, when you're pregnant and about to give birth, seeing your mom (if you have a close relationship) is the most reassuring thing in the world because if she can do it, so can you.
By 8 or 9, it was obvious I was going to have Tacoma that day. There was no stopping this kid. Family and friends were there as soon as we gave the word. Carolyn, my best friend, was about to jump out of her skin with excitement. I know it was pretty weird for her, it's not often she gets to see me so... well, about to give birth. Haha.
Around 10 or 11, I got my epidural. That was the most terrifying part, to me. If you know me well, you know I absolutely HATE needles. I wasn't afraid he'd slip and paralyze me, I wasn't creeped out by that at all. I was afraid of that giant needle. I was afraid of the epidural running out. I was afraid they'd make Nate leave the room. Nathan held me the whole time and I cried as hard as I could without moving my body. They tell you to relax and not move. They tell you to breathe. Right. You're sticking a HUGE needle in my SPINE and I should relax and breathe? No thanks. I did my best not to hyperventilate. Once the anesthesiologist had finished and I felt that cold sensation crawl down my back and into my legs, I watched him pack up to leave the room. This is when I decided to get brave. "Hey, so how big was that needle you just stuck in my back?" I asked. He said, "Which one?" I was curious, "Both." He held one up that had to be at least 4 inches long and said, "That's the one you felt." He picked up a second that was at least 8 inches long and said, "And that's the one you didn't." I laughed, not because I thought it was funny, but because I was almost sorry I'd asked.
After that, all I had to do was sit back and wait. Since I was only 36 weeks along, they wouldn't give me anything to encourage labor or give it a swift kick to get it moving faster. No. They made me wait it out. How nice. Well, I waited. I waited. I waited.... and I waited. My parents went to go get a carseat, Carolyn got a flat tire, and I dialated from a 6 to a 10 in an hour. Everyone had to hustle back to the hospital because I was NOT delivering this kid without my mom.
After 3 hours of pushing, Tacoma Harrison Sorey arrived in this world at 5:43pm, weighing 7 lbs exactly, and measuring 19 3/4 inches long. When they put him on my chest and I looked into that tiny red face for the first time ever, I knew that this moment was going to define my life- not my 16th birthday, not my graduation from high school, not my wedding day, nothing could top this. This little boy was mine. My first. This was the sweetest, most precious gift God had ever given me. Second only to His Son. And at that moment, everything changed. My prayers changed, Thank you, God. He is perfect. He is beautiful. I love him. And when I looked up at Nathan looking down at his newborn son, I knew he was thinking the exact same thing. No matter what, we would love this kid with everything we had. No matter what.

That was the day our lives changed forever.