My Unplanned Pregnancy: How My Shock Grew Into Gratitude

I was almost 38-years-old. I’d spent most of the previous seven years either pregnant or nursing my three children, and I was tired. I was overwhelmed by the kid-to-parent ratio in my house, and my anxiety level was at a fever pitch. The bright side? I was beginning to find my groove. My baby was seventeen months old. While we were entering the toddler years, I felt a little more “free” from the demanding needs of infancy, and it felt good. I’d even gotten back to the gym consistently, determined to take better care of myself and find margin to breathe. I was starting to come out of the fog. And, then…

I found out I was pregnant.

Let me back up for a second. My husband and I were so certain our family was complete with three kids, that he got a vasectomy about nine months prior. I’d sat in a doctor’s office with him as we signed our lives away, 100% certain this was it. We were done. But, after two follow-up checks with the urologist, {yes, two checks} I found out I was pregnant.

I was panicked. Sad. Terrified. 

It hurts for me to write those words now. But, in full transparency – it’s how I felt then.

In my heart, I knew there were couples out there who would give their right arm to see that second pink line. Yes, I was in a stable, loving marriage and we could feed and clothe this child. But, at that moment all I felt was inadequacy. I was ill-equipped and insecure. There was a reason why my husband and I without hesitation had agreed to a vasectomy. I did not think I was capable, in any way, to mother another baby.

Spoiler alert: the biggest shock of my life actually became my greatest blessing. But, you need to know the road to this place of peace and contentment wasn’t smooth.

As a “worrier” at heart, I had to come to terms with the unexpected. I was a planner with the rug ripped from under me. I had absolutely no control, and this pregnancy brought me anything but peace – at first. But, it also caused me to ask tough questions of myself. It forced me to examine the foundation of my faith, something I’d always claimed to be central in my life. It made me lean into my marriage and trust what made our family work. I had to evaluate what I was really capable of, instead of feeding into the deepest of my insecurities and fears. And, all of this introspection changed me.

Fast forward five years…My faith looks completely different today because I’ve discovered what it looks like to genuinely relinquish control to something bigger than myself. I am more relaxed and have learned to graciously accept chaos instead of constantly fighting against the reality of imperfection. I’ve come to appreciate different personality types and temperaments because I’m mothering the gamut under one roof. I’m more patient, more grateful, more loving.

But, here is the best part: There’s not a person who knows my son Ty, who can imagine life without him.

Ty…he is a force. All the tenacity of the “little fighter sperm that could” made its way into the center of his personality. This little boy of mine plays hard and loves hard. He is the most extroverted of all of our children, and he has never met a stranger who he couldn’t charm into becoming his friend. He is scary smart, strong-willed and confident. It’s impossible to know him and not love him.

He is also the kid who has swallowed a screw, emptied a packed Barnes & Noble store by pulling the fire alarm, and happily flashed his entire preschool class while going potty. I could write a book about his antics, and maybe someday I will. But, most of all, he completes our family. He is our ray of sunshine. He is our Ty, and he is the greatest surprise gift of my life.

While everyone’s story is unique, no one’s is wrapped up in a neat little bow. And, that’s okay. What matters is what we learn along the way. And, you know what one of my favorite lessons is so far? When we are forced to change course, there really are blessings around every corner.