Lights Will Guide You Home

The doctor’s office called R at noon. We debated whether she should conference me in to listen the voicemail together on her lunch break, but we were each too afraid to get bad news alone. She decided to leave work early so we could finally end the agonizing wait. At four pm we laid down on our bed, held hands, and pushed the voicemail button. The nurse’s tone was neutral. Professional. My heart sank. And then she said,

“Congratulations you are pregnant.”

I began sobbing. Sobbing so hard and for so long that R feared I was actually unhappy about the news. She shook me and said, “Please tell me you are happy about this?!” I managed to utter a garbled response, and continued sobbing.

Our long struggle is over.

I feel so much gratitude. I am so humbled by the scores of people who have prayed for us, hoped for us. Earlier this month I had a visual reminder of all the prayers and good wishes when my mother spilled an entire bowl of prayer beads on the living room floor. ¬†When I laughed about the ridiculous sight of three adults crawling around fetching hundreds of tiny beads she said, “This is how many prayers are being said for you right now.”

Thank you thank you thank you. Oh my goodness thank you. I’m so grateful.

My sweet Bean(s), I can’t wait to meet you. Until then, you are held in the light of so many wonderful people. We just can’t wait for you to arrive.