I was 20 years old standing in the bathroom staring in utter disbelief at the two pink lines glaring back at me.
How could this happen? I had life so carefully planned. I was 20 for goodness sakes, in the middle of college and working at Starbucks. This was not the life I had planned. I knew it could have been worse. I was married so I didn't have to wonder who the father was or worry about telling a boyfriend who would possibly bolt, but in that moment it didn't matter. All I knew was that MY plans had been thrown drastically off course. I didn't hate kids. I just wasn't in a hurry to have any, and I was never one to go gaga over babies.
I saw myself as a college graduate with a great career, a house, and lots of travel. Kids could come later...much much later.
As I tried to process all that those pink lines meant my husband was the exact opposite. He was over the moon happy and quickly went to work making new plans for our life as a family. I couldn't understand his enthusiasm. This was not part of the plan. How could he so quickly shift gears and start a new plan?
We butted heads often at my lack of enthusiasm. One night in my own frustration I remember stating something along the lines of wishing this never had happened. He was so hurt he replied, "Maybe you're right."
In that moment my own words broke something in me. The realization that my child was growing inside of me and I was wishing him or her away. I can't say it was instantaneous, but slowly something in my heart began to change. The heart of a mother was born in me that day. It wasn't me or my nature, but God was doing something deep in my soul. Slowly I began to love that child fiercely. It was a love I had never known, but I knew it was transforming everything I had known for the rest of my life.