I couldn't help it. The words just came right out.
I walked back into our bedroom, sat on the bed, and told my husband, "Well, I guess we're not going to Florida for Spring Break."
"Huh?" He's never been very good about waking up right away.
Yep, I was serious. I want to be perfectly clear: I LOVE my son. My sweet, loving, beautiful children are a daily reminder of just how much God has blessed me. However, this was not what we were expecting to happen, and at that very moment it couldn't appear to be worse timing.
Maybe I should back up. Three years earlier we were shocked to discover that we were pregnant with our daughter for very different reasons. We struggled for two and a half years to get pregnant. We had finally met with a specialist and were on our third round of treatments when we were told that the last round hadn't worked and we were going to have to try something new. Three weeks later I was pregnant. The differences in our reactions were night and day. The first time, Jeff told me we were pregnant.
"Yeah?" I tried to wake myself out of my sleepy Saturday stupor. I had woken up much earlier and taken a pregnancy test on a whim, going straight back to bed without looking at it. I was tired and I was tired of seeing "Not Pregnant" on the little digital readout. I figured I would just deal with the disappointment when I woke up.
"Did you look at this?"
"I really think you need to look at this."
It was like we were living in a sitcom. Several years before I had told Jeff that this sort of thing would never happen, especially when we saw the near exact thing happen on Scrubs. But it happened. To us. Just like that we knew we were pregnant. The second time around I knew before I even took the test. If we were being honest, we were not ready to have another baby, or at least the timing appeared to be awful. We had just moved, I had just started grad school, Jeff was busy at work, the house in Indy still hadn't sold (a story that doesn't go away), we didn't have renters lined up, and the extra money we got from the move was quickly disappearing. But we wanted our daughter to have a sibling and we didn't want them to be too far apart. We knew we were taking a risk, but if we had to wait six months to a year to talk to a specialist about the need to do treatments again, we needed to just completely leave God in control of our family growth. Less than a month after that conversation took place, I knew. But I forced myself into a state of denial for at least a week. I think Jeff's lasted longer than that.
Suddenly the last bedroom needed to be touched. We did the guest room first and we had started both our bedroom (another post for another time) and our daughter's bedroom. I had initially planned to make our daughter's room the nursery, but with a new little brother or sister on the way, we decided to let her keep her bedroom and we would make the last bedroom our nursery. All I needed was paint and time. A year before when we decided that we were moving I almost immediately went to Babies"R"Us to get the exact same wallpaper border that was in our Indy nursery. That moved with us, along with the curtains, lamp, and bedding that matched. My dad had refinished the last bedroom floor when doing the guest room floor, so now we had to cover yet another hideous paint job.
This time there was no ridiculously dark color to cover up and no wallpaper to remove, but the room had two different colors on the walls and a third color in other places throughout the room. The pastel blue, purple, and green was not going to suit my baby's bedroom, especially now that I knew we were having a boy.
A new ceiling fan/light, two different shades of tan split by the animal border, a fresh coat of paint on the open closet (Jeff didn't think that we needed to worry about doors yet, especially since we were having a boy and apparently boys don't care about that sort of thing), and our new baby room was ready. And this is what the room looks like now:
Yeah, it's a pretty cute room. Unfortunately, I think he may be outgrowing it quickly, especially since he seems eager to be out of the toddler bed and into his own "big boy" bed, just like his big sister. I need to hold off one more year before the animal border comes down. Once other projects are complete we can start working on a new design for our little boy. In the end, God's timing was perfect timing. We may have been shocked, but God knew that we needed him in our lives, and he knew that our son and daughter would be best friends (most of the time). And now we have an adorable room to match our adorable little boy.