Come on, ladies, how could I be pregnant? I have an early research project to defend, a semester to finish with five papers left to write, a poster presentation to prepare for early June, two different publications in progress with my advisor, and that's not even the whole of it. I also have 15 years' experience with licit and effective means of avoiding pregnancy, and a husband who is 100% on board with not having a baby at this time. I can't be pregnant.
I'm pregnant.
I go back and forth between the two implausible possibilities. (TMI warning, for people who know me IRL; you may want to skip down a couple of paragraphs while I chat with strangers on the internet about my sex life.) Did it happen EIGHT DAYS before my temperature shifted, on a day that was clearly infertile, or FIVE DAYS post-peak with three days of a thermal shift? Neither, right? Gametes don't live that long. Especially not 37-year-old saggy withered eggs, doddering toward perimenopause.
I am imagining a little Lance Armstrong-inspired swimmer, charging forward through the barren Alps with a miniature bicycle helmet and perhaps a teeny "Live Strong" bracelet on his -- oh, never mind about the details. The environment is hostile, the journey punishing, but he perseveres. Around the final bend he spies the egg at last! She says, in her tart old lady voice, "What do you think you're doing, whippersnapper? Get that bicycle helmet away from my zona pellucida!"
If you followed a population of NFPing couples for a year, you'd see the occasional pregnancy resulting from similarly unlikely circumstances. I understand that -- improbable pregnancies happen in large enough groups. But this one is happening in me, and I am boggled. I am curious about the probability that an individual 37-year-old woman would conceive in a single cycle while using NFP cautiously -- 1 in 10,000 at most, I would guess, and perhaps an order of magnitude smaller.
I took a second pregnancy test an hour before the awards ceremony. The first one, at 15dpo, had been negative and I had persuaded myself that I had an NSAID-induced luteinized unruptured follicle. Thanks to shingles, I had taken a truckload of NSAIDs in the preceding three weeks. (That negative test is why I don't think the most reasonable explanation, five-day sperm life plus ovulation three days before the temperature shift, makes much sense.) I locked myself in the basement bathroom to take the test, where no one would say, "CJ, are those your feet in there? Want to get some dinner before the awards ceremony?" I love the camaraderie in my department but sometimes a person needs a little solitude.
As I watched the test line take faint shape, there was confusion swirling all around me. Hey, a baby! How did that happen? What does it mean for the future? How am I going to get through all the stuff I have to do while I am puking my way through the first trimester? Everyone in this building is going to think I'm a madwoman. A madwoman who plans poorly. Hello in there, baby. How ON EARTH did you happen? But I believe that God authors life. And I believe that in any circumstance, when the 1 turns up instead of the 9,999, it's wisest to look beyond the swirls of confusion and see instead his own fingerprint.
And here is a second fingerprint: I went upstairs to the lab to do some baffled googling ("Lance Armstrong wannabe causes improbable pregnancy what now?") and thought back to the date that the thermal shift started so I could count forward to a due date. It was...March 25, Feast of the Annunciation. I mean, honestly. What can a Catholic woman do with that besides say, "Be it done unto me according to thy word"? (Followed, of course, by speculation that the Blessed Mother was probably pretty startled herself at the time.) It was a much-needed reminder that beautiful things arise from unexpected pregnancies, that it is better to say "Fiat mihi" than "You know, I had a different plan." This baby's womb-nickname is Gabriel (you can call him Baby Gabey if you'd like), and my hope is that he will declare the wisdom of God to a skeptical world for as long as he lives.
That night I was thinking about what it will mean if this pregnancy sticks, and I knew I'd have to decline my fellowship for next year. Continuing to work toward the degree seems reasonable to both Elwood and me -- I love the work, I have lots of practice juggling the needs of small children and my own projects, and he's behind me. But working from home, coding transcripts and running analyses while a baby nurses or naps, is a horse of a different species than continuing to make that drive once or twice a week as my fellowship requires me to do. I just can't do that. I thought about saying, "I know I agreed to co-teach that class for the spring semester, but I'm not going to able to do it after all," and do you know what I felt? Relief. The hardest part of this program has not been the papers and the tests and the deadlines and the tough questions from more experienced researchers. The hardest part has been arranging to be away from home so often, especially getting to campus on time in an old van through winter weather. The sudden appearance of an ironclad reason to stay off that highway next January and February felt like an unexpected gift -- God's oblique thumbprint, perhaps.
So about those prints, the finger-finger-thumb: in some moments, as I look through my glass darkly, it's tempting to see the indistinct fingerprints and say, "WHO is SMUDGING my glass?" But I choose instead to see the traces of a hand extended in blessing. This is not a blessing I sought, but it is one I will welcome.
To anybody reading this who is infertile or subfertile: I imagine that it must be painful to read a post where someone says, "God must have really wanted me to get pregnant!" Why me? Why not you? To Summer and Arwen and Tracy, in particular, I wanted to say that I am praying for you whenever I pause and think about how unlikely this pregnancy is. Which is often.
One last thing, and then I will end this monster post that could really have been just two words ("I'm" + "pregnant"). As I was sitting in the awards ceremony, I kept thinking of the story where God calls someone's name and he answers "Ready!" "Who was that?" I thought. "Not Samuel, but who else could it be? Is it maybe a Greek myth or something?" It niggled at me but I didn't figure it out for a couple of hours -- when I was almost home, it clicked. God said, "Abraham," and Abraham said, "Ready!" He didn't know what God was about to ask of him; he couldn't have had any idea what fruit would spring from his obedience. I am also carrying an unexpected blessing along an unexpected path, and I am doing my best to say, Ready.
Wow. Well I arrived too late for all the guessing, so I guess I get to be first with the congratulations?!
Posted by: Debs | April 16, 2008 at 12:58 PM
You are so sweet, CJ.
Knowing you, I knew this would be a big surprise - something that you would have been working hard at not having happen - but I also knew that you would welcome the baby. It will all work out.
I am and will be praying for a smooth pregnancy, for all the details to fall into place, for you to enjoy this time with a new life coming to join your family.
And I think it's wonderful.
Congratulations!
Posted by: Tracy | April 16, 2008 at 01:06 PM
What a surprise! Congratulations! :)
Posted by: Linda | April 16, 2008 at 01:22 PM
Ooooh, I was hoping pregnant was the correct answer, as soon as I read the guess. Congratulations!
Posted by: Meira | April 16, 2008 at 01:29 PM
Congratulations!
Posted by: Maria Wood | April 16, 2008 at 01:45 PM
first, congratulations, sweet mama- sorry i missed the original post!
second, i so hear you on the pregnancy and academia conundrum...i was sort of relieved that just as i was beginning to show (without question) i was put on the moderate bedrest- so much easier to avoid all those quizzical looks and chatter.
finally, we first got an clue about the pnut's possibility the first weekend of advent 2004- i remember saturday night i was up most of the night doing mental gymnastics over what a pregnancy would mean for my degree, my ministry, my life at that point- next morning we sang a familiar YM song "I say Yes! My Lord/Digo Si Senor" and in that moment i felt every fear and feeling of uncertainty i had replaced with a deep sense of peace and joy. my most heartfelt wish for all good things for you!
Posted by: pnuts mama | April 16, 2008 at 02:07 PM
Wow! Congratulations. How amazing the way things get rearranged in our lives when something like this happens. I guess you husband won't have to take down the baby's crib after all.
Looking forward to hearing about this new little one.
Posted by: Sarah | April 16, 2008 at 02:36 PM
Wow! Congratulations! Here's to being ready for what comes next!
Posted by: mary | April 16, 2008 at 03:11 PM
Wow. Congratulations!
(Maybe next time, you don't move the baby gear so decisively into the basement and then post your strong suspicion that babies are not in the immediate future? Because I've always imagined that Abram had just finished putting up an elaborate plan for rotating the herds through his in-laws' fields and Sarai had just been feeling at peace with all the fertile women in her weaving circle when God came calling. The dangers of thinking you know what's coming next....)
Posted by: Jody | April 16, 2008 at 03:17 PM
Woot! Woot! And it just might be Gabrielle, you know.
Posted by: Salome Ellen | April 16, 2008 at 03:22 PM
Mazel Tov!!! Felicitaciones!!
Posted by: blest | April 16, 2008 at 03:26 PM
Adding to the chorus of congratulations! You made me splutter with laughter too.
Ah well. You plan, and then you find out God's plan. I like your attitude!
Posted by: Pigwotflies | April 16, 2008 at 03:26 PM
But hey...we're still taking over the world, right?
Posted by: blest | April 16, 2008 at 03:27 PM
We're totally taking over the world. People give us trouble, I'll just barf on them.
Thanks, everybody, for the good wishes!
Posted by: CJ | April 16, 2008 at 03:43 PM
Sorry for "scooping" you--but I was just thinking about that post you wrote a while back when you thought you were pregnant, and it was the only thing I could guess. I'm not very creative. And also, congratulations! Yay! I loved reading a post about an unexpected and unplanned conception that was so life-affirming and positive. God's plan is mysterious, but that's okay as long as we remember that it HAS to be good--the way God works it out can't possibly be anything but the best way. That's sort of a nice thing to know. God bless you all!
Posted by: Maggie | April 16, 2008 at 04:04 PM
Congrats!! I'm so excited for you!
Posted by: Amie | April 16, 2008 at 04:19 PM
On re-reading your actual January post, it strikes me that you were rather inviting of this possibility, all things considered.
I'm so happy for you -- I hope all continues to go well.
Posted by: Jody | April 16, 2008 at 05:39 PM
Congratulations!!!
Posted by: Julie | April 16, 2008 at 07:22 PM
Oh, CJ, joyous congratulations to you. I loved this post. I experienced a good bit of ambivalence about a second baby -- I am 37, we don't have a lot of money, my career was just starting to take off, etc etc. but I knew I wanted another baby someday and he came surprisingly easily (also, interestingly, after I thought I ovulated, which was the case for both children). And now that he's here he is a pure joy and feels like he always should have been here, like there was a Will-shaped hole in our family I didn't even know was there until he came. I know this baby will be the same.
And "Lance Armstrong wannabe causes improbable pregnancy what now?" is the most hilarious thing I have read all week.
Posted by: AmyinMotown | April 17, 2008 at 08:54 AM
Oh oh oh! You're pregnant! How wonderful!
And conceiving during a cycle when you were carefully trying to avoid it, and on the Annunciation no less: I think this is more than a fingerprint of God's, my dear friend. I think this is the not-so-subtle print of His entire Hand.
I can't speak for anyone else, but I know that as a sub-fertile person I felt no sadness or wistfulness reading this post, only joy. Given the circumstances it seems quite certain to me that God *did* especially want you to carry this baby at this time, and your willingness to look past the smudge on the glass for His fingerprints is a beautiful thing to behold, and an inspiration to me to continue seeing fingerprints, rather than smudges, in my own life.
Much love to you and that tiny tiny little one, CJ.
Posted by: Arwen | April 17, 2008 at 09:40 AM
CJ, I am just thrilled for you! I know that this pregnancy will change things for you, but I can't help but be happy when great parents announce that they are going to be parents once again. I do hope that it's a little Gabrielle; wouldn't it be nice to have four boys and then an unexpected girl.
Posted by: Ariella | April 17, 2008 at 03:50 PM
Congrats, CJ. May this pregnancy be easy on you and healthy, too.
Posted by: amy | April 17, 2008 at 07:23 PM
"It was a much-needed reminder that beautiful things arise from unexpected pregnancies, that it is better to say 'Fiat mihi' than 'You know, I had a different plan.'"
My beautiful thing is almost 12 now...and I have never regretted for a moment the miracle that he is!...
Blessings to you!!! (and the baby! and the brothers! and the husband!)
What a lucky baby to have such a wonderful momma!!
Thinking of you always, and praying for you too!
Posted by: gina | April 18, 2008 at 08:18 AM
I was thinking of the first essay in Auerbach's Mimesis, where he compares that chapter in Genesis to the scene of Odysseus' scar, and sees the difference between them in terms of the silences; the Bible leaves spaces between the words. You have vast silences - three day long silences - between the reporting; you get no details of the journey to the sacrifice. So I'm reading you and thinking, Well, what do we know what happened in the gap between 'Abraham' and 'Here I am'? maybe he was thinking 'you can't be serious'? And then the point is that in spite of that, he does say, here I am.
Hmmm. Didn't mean to sound quite so solemn. The other thought in my head is that this is one lucky baby.... Mazal Tov!
Posted by: rachel | April 18, 2008 at 09:38 AM
Ha! Wonderful!
(I had two babies while I was in graduate school, and I managed to finish by the skin of my teeth, so I know whereof I speak...)
Posted by: bearing | April 18, 2008 at 10:02 AM
Congratulations! This time next year, you'll be saying "how could I have imagined life without this baby?" And, as you clearly know, you will still be able to bring your studies to fruition. :)
Posted by: Clare | April 18, 2008 at 02:17 PM
Did I ever tell you about my fifth child? We had just managed to get out of the debt hole so that I could quit working and go back to school (start the RN program) - we were living in a rented house two blocks from the community college where I had been accepted, I had almost completed the first semester and whoops, there it was. I was still breastfeeding baby #4, was being VERY careful, and my first suspicion was when I nearly passed out observing a colonoscopy (and I do not pass out easily). Then, about the time that I accepted the fact that I was pregnant and would probably lose a semester, if not more, of school, we were evicted from our rental home (I guess they didn't like the fact that we had 'the perfect family, one boy, one girl' when we moved in and then proceeded to have two more children over the next 4 years). Oh well. It ended up very well, because we moved in with family and were then able to buy a house..... the only loss was that baby # 5 ended up as a hospital birth because of our living situation, and even that was a good thing in the long run.
So take heart! Have you told your midwife yet?
Posted by: alicia | April 18, 2008 at 10:17 PM
Did I ever tell you about my fifth child? We had just managed to get out of the debt hole so that I could quit working and go back to school (start the RN program) - we were living in a rented house two blocks from the community college where I had been accepted, I had almost completed the first semester and whoops, there it was. I was still breastfeeding baby #4, was being VERY careful, and my first suspicion was when I nearly passed out observing a colonoscopy (and I do not pass out easily). Then, about the time that I accepted the fact that I was pregnant and would probably lose a semester, if not more, of school, we were evicted from our rental home (I guess they didn't like the fact that we had 'the perfect family, one boy, one girl' when we moved in and then proceeded to have two more children over the next 4 years). Oh well. It ended up very well, because we moved in with family and were then able to buy a house..... the only loss was that baby # 5 ended up as a hospital birth because of our living situation, and even that was a good thing in the long run.
So take heart! Have you told your midwife yet?
Posted by: alicia | April 18, 2008 at 10:17 PM
Well you've heard that old chestnut... "You know what they call people who practice NFP?" "Parents." ;)
Seriously, though, congratulations. You'll work it out (whatever "it" is). And, may I just say, better you than me, sister!!
Posted by: Lisa C. | April 20, 2008 at 12:55 AM
"Ladies"?
Posted by: Stephen | April 20, 2008 at 01:07 PM
Congratulations! What wonderful news. How are the boys handling it (have you told them yet?)
Posted by: Sarah in Ottawa | April 20, 2008 at 08:02 PM
I meant "ladies + Stephen + Elwood + my college friend Steve and any other lurking male readers, whose existence I kind of doubt."
Posted by: CJ | April 21, 2008 at 12:20 PM
Congratulations! And the paragraph that starts with this "So about those prints..." Beautiful, thank you so much for that reminder.
Posted by: Rebecca | April 21, 2008 at 02:42 PM
Congratulations! As I await the birth of my first baby *not* born while I was in grad school :) I wish you lots of joy! It can be done, and you will do it. And along the way, as a friend liked to say, "We'll remind those undergraduates that babies exist."
Posted by: mandamum | April 24, 2008 at 03:06 PM
Wow CJ, I'm sorry I've been away from reading here for so long! Congratulations :) I look forward to reading about barfing and birthing ;P
Posted by: frectis | April 25, 2008 at 10:40 PM
CJ, do you remember reading me a long time ago, when I said that baby #6 was conceived on day 5 of my cycle, peak day day 15?
Yeah. That was interesting. I even sent my chart to CCL, who said, "Wow!" and my local Teaching Couple were puzzled as well.
#6 has been difficult and trying, what with the spectrum diagnosis, but I've learned so much.
God's blessings on you!
Posted by: carmen | April 26, 2008 at 12:34 PM
WOW. And I can't believe I'm over TEN DAYS late reading this!!! I'm going to have my friend who just got pregnant (long story, you'd love to hear it -- husband had a vasectomy reversal) start reading this since I guess she found out about her pregnancy around the same day...
Anyway. Wow. I'm sure everything will be fine and that the Lord knows best, but still, it must have been a shock!
Posted by: Lilian | May 06, 2008 at 06:12 PM
Excellent post. I'm so glad I found your site, thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary.
Posted by: NCSue | August 31, 2009 at 11:48 AM
Ditto to NCSue!
Posted by: Elizabeth | August 31, 2009 at 12:33 PM
Popping over from Conversion Diary - you must be over the shock by now!!!
Jamie
Posted by: steadymom.com | August 31, 2009 at 02:03 PM
That was beautiful. Thank you for adding the note in there for those of us desperate to see that little line turn pink...although I've never heard the term sub-fertile before. :) My heart was touched.
Blessings!
Hannah
ps. I found your blog through Jen's linky loo. :)
Posted by: Hannah | August 31, 2009 at 02:37 PM
I loved reading this bit of history! So funny and heartfelt - wonderful :)
Posted by: Sarah @ This Heavenly Life | August 31, 2009 at 02:43 PM
Stopped by from Conversion Diary. GREAT post. So funny. And what a wonderful attitude you have towards this unexpected blessing.
Posted by: Mrs. Parunak | August 31, 2009 at 09:21 PM
Thank you for sharing this post. It was beautiful.
Posted by: Lisa@SoundMindand Spirit | August 31, 2009 at 10:01 PM
Really enjoyed this post. Found you via Conversion Diary. I, too, engage in baffled googling. My husband was a similiar baby and where would I be without him?!
Posted by: Julie | September 01, 2009 at 07:54 AM