Sunshine Through My Window, February 1987

February 28, 1987 was a work day. My apartment had shutters on the windows and in an effort to make myself get out of bed and to work on time, I had opened them slightly to allow morning sun to shine through. As the light filtered through the oak trees outside, in my window and on to my pillow, I cursed the trick I was trying to play on myself. I groaned and rolled over on my stomach attempting to escape the sunlight and enjoy one last swipe of the snooze button on my alarm.

As I rolled over, I was instantly wide awake and I knew. I knew I was not alone, that there was someone else there with me. Everything felt different. My breasts were tender, but not like the premenstral tender. My lower belly was slightly bloated, but not like the premenstral bloated. I knew there were tiny cells in my uterus, furiously dividing and growing, making a tiny person. I was not alone. I did not need a pregnancy test, I did not need a doctor's confirmation, I knew.

I laid there for a few more minutes as I tried to somehow justify the thoughts that had just run through my head. Surely this was not right, surely now that I was slowly getting my life on track this could not be happening, and most surely it was. I was not married, not even in a relationship (see Resolution #3, 1987) and had no business trying to raise a child. I was never even a good babysitter! Surely God would cut a deal with me, after all I was really trying to be healthy, trying to be good, trying to understand, but the only deal He gave me was His deal - and I could not be more thankful. It has truly been one of the very best things that has ever happened to me. At the time, it scared me beyond measure, but through the years I have come to realize that God's wisdom in that sun-dappled bedroom could not have been greater.

He chose me to be the keeper of those tiny cells, to grow them in the safe haven of my body, to love them beyond measure. He chose me; truly a defining moment.