There is no doubt in my mind. This pregnancy isn’t a result of luck or just mere chance. I do believe this is a gift from God, for whatever reason, and that it’s a miracle. I know not everyone shares my beliefs and that’s fine with me. Doesn’t change what I believe though. But it does make me wonder, why me? It’s hard not to question these things, even when you know you shouldn’t. It’s not for me to know why this has happened, but rather to accept it and do as best I can with the gift I’ve been given. This baby is a gift, a miracle. And ever since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been trying to reconcile my feelings about it all.

I know so many women who deserve to be pregnant right now. There are ones who would like another. There are ones who would like to be able to stay pregnant (for pete’s sake). There are ones who would be happy with just one, that’s all they ask. There are ones who have been battered by loss and are scared of the journey. Suffice it to say, each of these women (and more) deserve to be in the position I am in right now. Maybe they deserve it more than I do.

We’ve been through quite a bit and for a while, I thought I actually might have belonged to the world of the infertile. I know, it sounds laughable now, doesn’t it? But for so many years after we had Harry, I simply could not get pregnant without Clomid. And believe me when I say, WE TRIED. I was so desperate that I avoided the RE’s office for a year on two separate occasions in the hopes that I could get pregnant on my own. I charted my temperature, I took vitamins, I did everything they say you should do. And in all of that I NEVER once got a positive pregnancy test. Ever. And the RE told me that I wasn’t ovulating on my own. That my thyroid was to blame. I’ve been on thyroid medication, but when we tried for a year after Jackson died I still didn’t get pregnant on my own. So yeah, maybe you can see why I thought maybe I was infertile.

But now I feel a little silly for even thinking that I was infertile. Because, obviously, I’m not. Sure, I doubted it before because you aren’t totally infertile when you can get pregnant on Clomid fairly easily, right? But here, getting pregnant completely out of the blue with pretty much zero effort on our part… No charting, no timing, no thought towards getting pregnant in the least. Does this mean I’m officially kicked out of “the club”?

I think I will always identify more with the people who have had difficulty getting pregnant than the ones who get knocked up at the drop of a hat. It goes without saying that I’ll identify with people who have suffered loss as well. I may not be in the club anymore, but I’ll never forget what that agony was like.

And I’ll always wonder if I’m worthy of this great miracle that has dropped in my lap.