The Gift I Needed
Meet Carolyn Joy. My spunky, fun loving, independent as hell, love-a-bunch youngest child. When this little girl wraps those sweet arms around you, she warms your whole body until you melt into the sweetness of her being. She has a larger-than-life personality and everything she does, she does in a very big way. When she is happy, she lights up the room with her infectious laughter. When she is sad; the whole house feels the weight of her sorrow. Her voice is audibly loud, drawing attention to her with unwavering power. She is a force to be reckoned with and it is so fun (albeit sometimes frustrating) to watch this big personality develop in her little body
With all the space my baby girl demands, it is hard to ever imagine a life without her or what our family would look like if she didn’t enter our world 5 years ago. However, prior to her birth, adding another child to our already decent size family seemed impossible, impractical and came very close to not being an option.
Our first 3 children were, if not planned, definitely expected in the trajectory of our lives. The pregnancy for our oldest, Jacob, was discovered a little over a month after our wedding. Malia came 2 years and 4 months later, balancing our family to a nice and neat 2 parents, 2 kids (1 boy, 1 girl) standard. We even had a dog and a white picket fence. Regardless of how stereotypically symmetrical our family appeared on our Christmas card photo; I knew it wasn’t complete. Sure enough, 5 years and a business launch later, Jackson came into our world. I remember sitting in the hospital room waiting for the arrival of my 3rd born. Rich and I were discussing whether or not this would be our final trip to the maternity ward. I felt pretty strongly that it was.
At 35, I wasn’t sure I wanted to put myself through the stress of another pregnancy. This 3rd pregnancy was a harsh reminder of my progressing age and the effects the years (and pregnancies) had had on my body. I have never been a super happy pregnant person. Yeah, the flutters and kicks are cool and the fact that a woman has the ability to grow another human is pretty incredible but I hated gaining weight. At 5’0, it is hard to carry extra weight in such a little body. Throughout each pregnancy I suffered with sciatic and lower back issues. The additional pounds and lack of constraint to my diet wreaked havoc on my already temperamental digestive system. I just wasn’t a very happy plump mama.
Rich, however, wasn’t so sure. He asked me to hold off on getting my tubes tied until we had time to give it more thought. He promised he would get a vasectomy if and when we made the decision. I agreed.
The years passed. I found a full-time job as a Sales and Marketing Manager at the fitness club I had been a member of for 10 years. I loved working again, being a part of a team and in an environment I was passionate about. My relationship with Rich was better than it had ever been before. Every relationship has peaks and valleys. We were at the tippity-top of one of the peaks in ours – happy, content and communicating. Together, we had just completed a 3-month health and fitness program at the club. We were fit, in love and feeling great!
Maybe a little too much so…
After nearly 4 years of discussion, we collectively decided it was time to make the appointment to mark the official closing of the Andrews baby shop. Jackson was 4 years old and would start Kindergarten the following year. My job at the club was taking a whole new exciting turn and I wanted to continue that path to completion. I had once again lost all the baby weight plus some; looking and feeling better than I had in years. Our children were older, making it easier for Rich and I to go out to dinner and enjoy each other’s company. All these factors plus my impending 40th birthday aided our decision. It was time.
At Rich’s consultation, the doctor told him he could make his surgery appointment at any time. “Go home, talk to your wife and call us to schedule.”
A week or two goes by before Rich makes the call to the doctor’s office and discovers it would be another month before the next opening. He schedules the appointment for a month out. We were as good as done!
The day of the surgery, while Rich was recovering at home, I sat on the bleachers watching Malia play lacrosse. I was sitting with a good friend when it occurred to me that I could possibly be overdo for my period. I tried to mentally recalculate the days and weeks. Sure enough, it appeared I was over a week late for this (typically) very punctual monthly occurrence. I voiced my concern and she laughed. “How funny would that be?” I rolled my eyes. It was impossible, right? I tried to push the notion out of my mind, but the seed (no pun intended) had been planted.
On the way home from the practice field, I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up Rich’s pain medication (reminder – this medication was for the VASECTOMY he had earlier in the day). I decided, while I was there, to pick up a pregnancy test. Just to rule out any possibility. I figured if I went ahead and did the test out of precaution, it would obviously be negative and my body could relax and return to its normally scheduled programming.
I didn’t tell Rich any of this. Why worry him? He had just gone through with the surgery and was currently resting on the couch with a bag of frozen peas on his lap. The results would obviously be negative and then we could have a good laugh about the scare and the fact that I actually went so far as to buy a pregnancy test.
The date was March 30, 2015. The week before Easter. That evening I had big plans to color Easter eggs with my 3 children. We sat in the dining room with a couple dozen white eggs ready to be dyed. I robotically set up a dozen mugs containing various colors of liquid dye while my mind continually wondered to the unopened package I had hidden in my room. My original plan was to take the test later while the kids were asleep, but I couldn’t wait any longer. After dividing the eggs 3 ways and setting each child up to the task, I snuck into the bathroom, the fate of our family tucked deeply in my sweatshirt pocket.
Hastily, I got to the test. Squatting over the toilet seat, I chastised myself for taking this to such an extreme. It seemed so unnecessary and a waste of money just to ease my own mind from the possibility. But what if? I tried to talk myself out of the swirls of emotions that were taking over my body as the “what ifs” began to take a mountainous form in my mind.
Outside the door, the kids continued to concoct different methods of coloring, each with their own personality traits wrapped around their creative prowess. Malia boasted about her bright solid colors that looked like a rainbow as they were all placed neatly back in their carton. Jacob was experimenting with half colors of eggs, carefully holding on to the eggs as they hovered over the dyed vinegar water. Jackson, elbow deep in his dye cups, had created an array of muddy greens and browns as he transferred the eggs from one color to another and back again. I smiled listening to the 3 laugh and tease each other. I just couldn’t imagine another dynamic than the one currently on the other side of the bathroom door.
Yet, when I looked down at the white stick as I placed it on the counter, 2 very distinct bright pink lines began to form in the window. The realization of what this meant quickly drew the air from my lungs. I braced the edge of the sink and tried to comprehend what I was seeing. This was not how today was supposed to end. Today was supposed to mark the completion of our family. At the time, I didn’t think of it this way but as I write these words, I realize it was just that. Those pink lines were the exclamation marks to the end of the building of our family. Just not the one I had expected.
It took me a while to reveal the news to Rich. Like….maybe… 2 whole hours or something. I believe it went something like this.
Setting: The living room of our little “Sandcastle” by the sea. Rich is relaxing on the couch, a warm cup of tea in his hand. Erika stands nervously on the other side of the couch, drying her hands on a dish towel after cleaning up the puddles of Easter egg dye off the dining room table.
Erika: Rich, you are not going to believe this but I have some news (bursts into tears).
Rich (pauses. looks puzzled for a moment. then it hits him.): You are fucking pregnant
Erika: (hysterical) I know. It is horrible timing. I just started full time and I lost all this weight and Jackson is going to Kindergarten next year and I was finally home free and we won’t fit in this house anymore and you just had the surgery and I lost all this weight and I am going to get fat again. (and… and… and)
Rich: (shaking his head) It will be okay. It will all be okay
He pulls me in for a hug.
There was a lot more to the conversation as we talked in circles of emotions – shock to fear to denial to joy and back again. In the end, we knew it would all be okay.
Carolyn Joy came into this world on December 4, 2015. The whole occurrence of her birth was calm and beautiful. Unlike my previous 3 births, there wasn’t a 36-hour labor or a surprise NICU stay or a positive Strep B test. Two days after her due date, on the morning of our scheduled induction, she took the cue and labor began at home prior to my allotted check in time. Within a few hours, my healthy, pink baby girl was in my arms.
I may have felt like I was done when I had Jackson but when I held Carolyn in my arms, I felt complete.
Even as an infant, her personality was infectious. Snug in a bucket seat, as we made our way through the grocery store Carolyn would fixate her gaze on other shoppers until they turned their attention to her. She would then smile at them from ear to ear inevitably receiving a smile in return. I love thinking back to those days. I remember admiring the power she had at such a young age, her ability to bring out the best in other people and praying that attribute was one she would be able to maintain through life.
One day, I was sitting in the café at the fitness club sipping a cup of coffee. Carolyn lay in her bucket seat on top of the table in a deep, milk-drunk sleep. A coworker and good friend came to the table to admire her and welcome me back. We chatted about what life was like now and how it was different from before Carolyn entered my world. “She is the gift I never knew I needed” I responded without thinking twice about what I was saying. And it hit me how true that statement was.
Since that moment of recognition, my world has begun to turn around. Looking at the life I have been given, the life I have made for myself and the cards I have been dealt are blessings – even when they aren’t what I thought I wanted or needed before I received them. Everyday Carolyn challenges me to be a better person. A more excepting, loving, true-to-myself person. She puts my patience to the test, pushes my buttons, and demands attention. Carolyn warms my heart and makes me laugh. She knows who she is and what she wants. She will make a great leader someday and I am going to do everything in my power to not damper that spirit.
Her middle name was chosen for multiple reasons. The first because of the season she was born – the Christmas season. The second was because she is a direct product of the love I share with my husband and the result of the strong relationship we share. I never expected that name to personify everything about her – her smile, her laugh, her playfulness and what she brings to those around her. But it does.
This weekend Carolyn turned 5. Five is a big number and a turning point from baby to big kid. Happy 5th Birthday to my baby girl. I celebrate you today and everyday as the cherished gift I needed then and always.
