Rips in My Jeans: what my heart sounds like from the inside

On this day last year I found out I was pregnant. I have never in my life felt so elated and terrified at the same time.

God has a way of surprising his kids, because a good daddy always does. He also knows that I can never wait to get my birthday presents, so those two pink lines showed up three days before I turned 24.

I had given up. I had finally accepted that Maverick would very likely be an only child. I had given away all the baby things, threw away the ovulation tests, and put my thermometer in the back of a drawer. I was done trying. I prayed that God would give me the strength to move on, because I was still grieving for the baby that we had lost a six months earlier. My body was broken, but I refused to let this heartache destroy me. I had one beautiful miracle of a son. What more could I need?

But then God said "Happy Birthday, child." My heart was so full. I was scared out my mind. I was deliriously happy. I couldn't get rid of the goosebumps.

I literally got forehead to carpet in my prayer for my tiny unborn child. I knew there was a chance I could miscarry again. And I told God that if that's what would happen I would still trust Him. But I didn't have to worry.

That day I went to the doctor and immediately got bloodwork. My levels were high. Very high. And everything looked perfect the next week at my first ultrasound. And everything continued be perfect.

Eight months after that beautiful day I had an even beautiful-er day. I got to meet my son. My son that came out looking exactly like I had imagined. Just like his big brother but with my coloring.

Before Hudson Rhys was born I was worried about having enough love for both my boys. I couldn't imagine loving someone as much as I love Maverick. But the second I heard his first cry my heart almost burst.