On March 2, 2009, I took a pregnancy test. There were two pink lines.
On March 3, I took another pregnancy test. This one just said "Pregnant." Later that night, I told my husband. I remember hoping he was as happy as he seemed to be.
On March 31, we saw our baby for the first time. It had a heartbeat.
On April 28, we heard the heartbeat.
On June 17, we had an ultrasound. We were told our baby was a boy. A healthy, growing boy. We were ecstatic.
In July, I finally got a bump.
On July 21, another ultrasound confirmed that everything was going smoothly.
In August, we got a new house, complete with nursery. Serious shopping began.
In September, I bought my first and only pair of maternity pants.
On October 7, another ultrasound put baby's gender in question.
On November 9, baby's gender was confirmed - to be female.
At 10:00 pm on Friday, November 13, the day before my due date, we arrived at the hospital.
At 4:25 am, I started pushing.
And at 4:56 am, Madelyn Harris came into the world, at 7 lbs 9 oz and 18.5 inches long.
I do want to share more details about the whole labor and delivery process, for those of you who want to know. But that will come later. For now I just want to say this:
In the past nine months, I have been sick, tired, and in pain. I've been hungry for things I couldn't eat, and in need of medicine that I was afraid to take. I've been depressed, elated, and everything in between. I've been excited, terrified, worried, anxious, giddy, confused, and restless. I've had days when I felt enormous, and others when I worried about being too small. I've worn clothes that didn't fit, cried for no reason, and been unable to walk. I've had pain in my head, back, boobs, stomach, fingers, and feet. Dallin's put up with all of it.
Have you ever heard the saying "Roads are for journeys, not destinations?" Or anything like that?
Well I'm here to tell you that that is a bunch of bull. What good is a road, or a journey for that matter, without a destination?
My pregnant road this past nine months has most certainly not been about the "journey." It wasn't about "experiencing" something.
It was about that moment, at 4:56 am on November 14, when I saw my little girl's face, and heard her cry, and kissed her cheek, and knew that she was mine.
Welcome to the world, sweet baby girl. We've reached one destination together - let our next jouney begin.