I'm currently awaiting (rather impatiently) the birth of my third son, Nico. My due date is May 12th, one day away.
My due date wasn't always May 12th, and that's the story I'm going to tell you fine folks today, because according to every pregnancy calculator known to man, I never should've gotten a positive pregnancy test when I did.
The longer Nico clings to my rib cage, the more sure I am that my impossible pregnancy test was, in fact, a gift of compassion for my husband and his dying father.
You see, after our wedding in May, Peter's health took a marked turn. He spent some time in a local hospital that didn't take necessary steps to help properly diagnose him. After pushing to have him placed in a better hospital, we finally got a diagnosis of cancer which had spread too far to effectively treat. It was a crushing blow to Peter, his wife, and my husband. I prayed- hard- for a miracle that Peter might regain some semblance of himself despite the prognosis. Chris had only just moved home and begun enjoying a closer bond with his dad, and I know he had so many hopes for what to do with the time they now got to share. Alas, it was not meant to be. However, God is good and had plans for them.
In early August, I began noticing the tell-tale symptoms of pregnancy. Sure enough, on August 11th, I saw two pink lines staring up at me from the bathroom sink. I shared the news with Chris, and we agreed to tell his mother that night. I also shared the news in my CathSo group (which is why I know the date!). The next morning, Diana told Peter via a scheduled phone call (due to COVID restrictions, she wasn't allowed in to see him and had to schedule calls with the nurses' station). About a day or so later, Chris was able to go in-person to see his dad as well.
Unfortunately, on August 22nd, Peter passed away. Peter was such a darling, generous man; quiet and humble, but so very warm and funny. I am genuinely sad that he was called home so soon as I know he, too, was happy to finally have his son back home.
A few weeks later, I went in for my first ultrasound. By my calculations (that included pertinent info like menstrual cycle and possible dates for conception), I should've been 8 weeks along. However, upon completion of the ultrasound, I was measuring less than 6 weeks, pushing my due date to May 12th. By that calculation, it wouldn't have been possible for me to test positive on August 11th. In fact, I wouldn't have even conceived until more than a week later! Even a super sensitive pregnancy test wouldn't have picked up anything until well after Peter had passed away.
So either the ultrasound was wrong, or God had given us a glimpse into our happily ever after so that Chris could share this joy with his father before he passed away. The longer that Nico remains nestled within my womb, the more I believe that impossible test was a very special grace granted by God, especially knowing how much that conversation meant to Chris.
God is good. In all things, God is good.
Please say a prayer for the repose of Peter's soul and a quick and healthy delivery of his grandson, Nico. C'mon, buddy... we can't wait to finally meet you!
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