I looked down towards that little white stick and saw a second line appear. The bathroom walls seemed to close in on me and my heart sank into my chest. In that moment I felt so alone, and then I realized. I am not alone, I'm growing a tiny human inside of me. I am not alone. And I can do this.
Every day, as I'm walking out the door for work, I hear little foot steps running behind me. I turn around to embrace my little girl who wraps her short little arms around my neck as far as she can reach. She then attempts to say "love you" to me as I leave. I get to work and see something out of the corner of my eye on my blouse. I look down and what do I find on my shoulder? Usually jam or peanut butter or whatever she could get her little hands on that morning. Let me tell you something, that hug was worth it. If I got to work and didn't have something on my shirt from hugging my little girl goodbye, it would be a strange day.
Doing laundry, I get our clothes out of the dryer and fold them. As I pick up a pair of Paisley's itty bitty pants and go to fold them, rocks and dirt clods fall out. In that moment, I vision her in my head playing outside in her beautiful dress, barefoot and in the mud. Outside is her happy place. Finding rocks and sticks in her pockets when I do laundry is part of mine.
If I go to change or go to the bathroom and shut the door, I have about a whole 3 seconds before I have someone banging on the door yelling mommy until I let her in. But hey, I guess privacy is overrated nowadays anyway.
Bed times are my favorite. Paisley insists on having at least four stuffed animals, plus her baby dolls and at LEAST two fuzzy blankets in bed with her. I wake up every morning to her singing, talking, or yelling "Mommy!". She then proceeds to hand me every animal, baby, blanket and bottle, one at a time, before she will let me take her out of her bed. She then insists on carrying them all by herself around the house with absolutely no help from me allowed.
At the end of every day, I lay in bed exhausted but I also think about how excited I am to do it all over again tomorrow. The messy hands, messy face, the dirt, rocks, sticks, and lack of privacy. You never would think those are things you can't live without. But those are the things that teach me patience. They make me smile and give me happiness. I would hate to have a clean shirt every day, or do laundry and find no surprises. I would despise actually being able to shut a door and hear no little knocks and yelling from the other side. It would be an awful morning without waking up to my little person yelling "Mommy!" waiting for me to rescue her from her crib.
Now here we are, 2 years and a couple months after that exact day I found out. I come home every day to a beautiful 18 month old little girl. I am forever grateful that she came into my life when she did. Even if it was unplanned, even if I was only 16. I realize every single day that this little girl is exactly what I needed.
