It’s a bit of an overstatement to say that this guy pretty much started it all, but I’ll say it anyway. This guy pretty much started it all:

October 7, 2011: Me visiting with our friends’ baby, Levi, at 3-days-old. I walked down the stairs with him at one point, and I’m pretty sure it was the slowest I’ve ever walked in my life.

When we first got married, we were terrified of getting pregnant. I guess that isn’t a terribly uncommon thing, but there were times we so much didn’t want to have a baby that I was occasionally concerned that I wouldn’t ever be ready to have a baby. We knew that if it happened, it would be God’s will and we would have trusted Him, but it would have been hard at first. I prayed very earnestly that God would make me ready for a baby when He was ready for us to have a baby, but I was kind of afraid He would beat us to the punch.

As time passed, the idea of a parenthood got less and less scary, but despite our love for the growing young families and babies around us, we still couldn’t quite see how that puzzle piece would fit yet, and that misfit feeling increased when God called us to move our family of two to South Florida. Some of the fear of a +1 even returned as we settled into our new city, and for the first time in our marriage there were some instances when we thought we may had been blessed with such a “surprise.” But as always, God knew what He was doing, because even in the fear that accompanied those long, thumb-twiddling days of waiting, my heart was being opened and softened to the reality of having our own children.

Then, last Spring, seemingly out of nowhere, a wave of baby fever hit me fast and hard. I didn’t understand where it came from and I hardly knew what to do with myself! I eventually had to fill in my husband. I calmed down a bit after talking about it, and at some point we agreed to revisit the idea in January.

But, we didn’t make it to January. October. Our sweet friends welcomed their Baby Levi into the world. A few days after he was born, we brought over a casserole and did what we could to help out Mom and Dad. Luckily, some mutual friends who were already parents were there, too. We had good intentions, but let’s be honest, they were the ones who really knew what to do.

It was almost instantaneous. I was holding Levi in his rocker while his mom tried to rest, and it hit me — not baby fever, it wasn’t that frantic hormonal feeling I felt in the Spring, it was calm and clear — You can do this; it’s time. You can do the hard parts. You can do the scary parts. You can do the labor, the sleeplessness, the tears, the breastfeeding. You can do this; it’s time.

When we started trying to conceive, I don’t think we even called it “trying,” at least not out loud — the whole thing is a little overwhelming and scary to embark upon. What if we got pregnant too fast? What if we didn’t get pregnant? What if I miscarry?

The first month went by. We were a little disappointed and a little bit more relieved to find out it was going to be just the two of us a bit longer.

The second month went by. I was convinced I was pregnant. I wasn’t.

The third month went by. Christmastime was here and I was convinced I wasn’t pregnant. I was a little sad, because I always romanticized the idea of being pregnant at Christmas; I thought it would add to the magic and miracle. Little did we know, all Christmastime our little one was nestling in.

January 3rd, 2012, a Tuesday, I took a pregnancy test on a whim, despite still being pretty sure I wasn’t pregnant. It was just a cheap-o one left under the sink from the month before. I waited rather unanxiously for the results, thinking this was probably a waste of a pregnancy test and I shouldn’t have done it. My phone timer went off. I walked back to the bathroom and saw a faint, blue line. I was shocked. I ran to Walgreens in a fog to get a digital one — you know, one of the ones that actually spells out the words for you when you’re convinced you must be seeing things on the first test you took? And sure enough, “pregnant.”

I immediately texted my husband: “Hey, when do you think you’ll be coming home today?”

When he got home, I did my best not to pounce. I sat him down, we chatted about his day, and when the conversation turned to me, I put my hand on the side of his face and oh-so-eloquently said, “Hey, sooo… I’m pregnant.” We laughed and hugged and stared into each others’ eyes. I showed him the test: “Pregnant.” The display would only show for 24 hours, so I took a picture for myself. Early on in the pregnancy, I would occasionally stare at it; It was the only picture of my baby that I had!

It’s amazing the transformation God leads you through in your pregnancy. As you grow and transform outwardly, God is inwardly transforming and preparing your heart and mind, and as I sit here in the beginning of my third trimester, waiting to welcome our baby girl, I know there is still transformation to take place and I wouldn’t be surprised if it lasts far beyond these 9 months.

Early in my pregnancy, there was an Audrey Assad song that meant so much to me called “Ought to Be.” It talks about growing love and she sings, “It may not be red as the roses yet/It may not be strong as the old oak trees/But love planted deeply becomes what it ought to be.”

I love that. “Love planted deeply becomes what it ought to be.”

Me and my husband, the day we found out we were pregnant.