It’s funny how my daughter never tires of hearing me say, that I have been saying that I would have a daughter since I was 7 years old. You see, at 7, I was bound and determined that I was going to have a sister coming home with my Mom. I named “her” Amanda Elizabeth. Little did I know, my Mom was bringing home a David Turner. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, I do. But, I just wasn’t going to tell him any of my 7 year old girl secrets! Not that I really had any come to think of it, but still, I was not going to tell him! And as an adult, this fascination with having a sister doesn’t really make a lot of sense now. I was a total Tomboy. You’d find me hanging upside down from the trees in the front yard right alongside my two boy cousins. I didn’t like dolls. I was totally uninterested in clothes or ever playing dress up. I know I completely gave my mother the blues! I still don’t put any of the frilly girly things in my hair and I refused to make my infant daughter wear one of those flower headbands on her head so she could look like she was sprouting from an ugly flower garden! Nonetheless, I have always known that while God didn’t see fit for my Mom to bring home another little girl, I would have a daughter of my own.
Fast forward twenty-four years to when I got married. I wanted that baby girl so bad that I could almost smell her sweet baby breath. But, my husband and I agreed we would wait one full year before trying to have a baby. The end of that year came and I was so elated. Much to my dismay, month after month I would suffer another heartbreak. With each passing month, no matter how many times I stood on my head, I would not get a positive test result. Two years and five months after we married, I sought help from a doctor. He began by sending me for a series of blood work to try to figure out the problem. After all, my biological clock was ticking in overdrive at this point! I had just reached the ripe old age of 34! Two months and a series of tests later, he deemed that I was not ovulating and then he laid out my options. I chose to take a low dosage of a fertility drug. Two months, two doses later and still, nothing. I officially gave up. That was it. Being a mother was not in the cards for me. I tried to focus on other things. It was February 2011, the year still held a sense of newness. It was time to refocus.
And I did refocus, until I got that positive test on March 13th, 2011. I was stunned. I had never heard of pregnancy tests giving false positives. But they must because it said you had to wait a minimum of one minute and this test showed a positive in less than 10 seconds. It must have been broken. I returned home from work later that day and on the insistence of my husband, tested again. But of course, it would not show positive! Not that late in the day, right? WRONG! It was still positive! I knew in that moment that I was going to have that girl I had been dreaming of for 27 years. Just after my 35th birthday, I did have the girl of my dreams. Only, she wasn’t at all what I had dreamt. She was a million times more beautiful. I was in love. We were in love. My husband has wanted a daughter as long as he could remember as well. He got her at the ripe old age of 40. A year or so ago, my Aunt gave me the most beautiful piece of art. Alongside the mother holding the child, it is written, “for this child I have prayed”. I don’t know too many material things that I can hold in my hand that tugged at my heartstrings like that piece of artwork. But that piece definitely did. For all of you that are having a difficult time having the child of your dreams. All I can say is keep dreaming, praying and believing. My prayer for you is that your dreams will also come to fruition. And I want you to know, that you are never alone. So many women have walked the path that you are walking. Believe.
Posted by ~ Amy Redditt on 08/31/2015