I have never been so busy in my whole life. Being a breastfeeding photographer during World Breastfeeding Week is...nuts. So. much. stuff. to. do.
But before I got really burned out editing another session, I wanted to give you a little peek in on our lives lately.
A few months ago Eamon and I were...uh, you know, having parent time... doing the horizontal tango... sex. We were sexing. Full on marital bliss sexing. And BAM out of nowhere I was all "Screw the condom, I want to get pregnant, my body is all 'knock me up' and I'm totally cool with that!" and Eamon was all...jump across the other side of the room. But in all seriousness, it was very weird.
For the next few weeks I floated around, secretly hoping that I made my announcement to Eamon a little too late and there was a little brother sprouting up in my womb. But, alas, no babe.
The next month came, and I was late...REAL late...like, this only has happened three times before kinda late.
I walked into Target, starring at all the mirrors and windows and glass objects, trying to tell if there was anything different about me, almost certain I saw that *glow* even planned out some baby names (here-by claiming Maxine and Rhys for future Burke babies, back off, I got dibs.) I bought my tests, chugged a water on the way home, and snuck into the bathroom.
Two minutes later.
Nada. Well, Negative, anyway.
"Ah," I think. "There's not enough HCG in there since it's like 10, I'll wait til morning."
5 a.m.
Nope. Still not pregnant.
Not gonna lie, I cried. I sat up with Jesus and talked to Him about how ready I was, how it was okay if this happened and that I will always welcome a baby. Even if we'd need a car, the momentum Eamon and I have put into both of our businesses would come to a grinding halt, we have 10k in debt from college, and I haven't slept more than 10 hrs this weeks because of work and crying babies...Please Lord...Just let me be pregnant.
Needless to say, I started my period a few days later, and am currently monsterating, so no, no baby for the Burkes right now, but the strangest thing happened. Day after day over the next few weeks, the announcements came flooding in.
She is pregnant.
And she is pregnant.
They're expecting.
And they are with child.
In fact, nearly everyone who has been pregnant at the same time as me with both of the girls is being blessed with another babe.
And, because I'm a sucky friend, I kinda didn't handle this well.
"WHY GOD!? Why them and not me?"
For the first time people were asking me why I wasn't pregnant. Suddenly everyone forgot that I'm 5-10 years younger than all of my peers. Suddenly the fact that I haven't spent the night away from both of my babies...EVER...was okay. And suddenly the fact that my intestinal lining (or lack there of) has given both of my girls life altering allergies was just no big deal. And then, bringing it up sounds like I'm being judgmental of the fact that all the woman (that I love dearly) are pregnant again. Right? Rude...
Playing the waiting game is not something I do well with God. I get impatient, I make up my own rules, I tend to make a mess of things. Right now I'm choosing Hope. I am hopeful for our family's future, because Jesus knows how thrilled I would be to be pregnant again, and yet I am to wait. He will be orchestrating all the small details in our life to make our family thrive before sustaining a new life, not just survive. He will be restructuring our finances, pulling a new car in our driveway, healing mine and Norah's body, taking my marriage to new depths and heights, preparing me for the mother that our next baby will need. I know all of this from the one door He closed. And I am hopeful.
Here's to my quartet <3