Girls Rule, Boys... | Baby Reveal

Are still awesome but few and far between in the Mo House. We're excited to announce that Baby Mo #2 is a growing girl!

Some of you are saying, "Of course the Mo's baby reveal was with Starbucks!" And I'm not entirely sure if you're referring to the unhealthy obsession we have, the frequency of free drinks we get, or that most of my blog posts are written either about, in, or around coffee. No idea. ;) #iseeyourinstagrams

Also, not gonna lie, I've been so hungry and cranky with this one, I would have bet my life it was a boy. Nope. Just a very aggressive girl. Maybe there's a chance this one will be like me after all ;)

My favorite moment of the day: Me: Yay! They can share a room! Ty: Holy crap we're paying for two weddings! Sym: More coffee please!  #priorities

So...Chalk Anyone? | A Baby Surprise!

Guy Version:

We're having a baby!

Girl Version:

It's true. Totally unexpected, but totally true. AH! Ty and I were actually in a fight the day we found out. We'd just moved into our new home, sang at a wedding, had a mini-anniversary/mini-birthday celebration for us and Sym, and did a full weekend at church. 

Needless to say, by Monday I was exhausted. According to Ty, I was irritated, grumpy, and distant. The jury's still out on that... 

Things finally bubbled to the surface when he asked "Babe, you ok?" for like the 17th time. You know that meme that says I was fine until you asked me if I was ok for the 17th time, it was like that. 

Yes, babe, I snapped. I'm fine, I'm just exhausted, hungry, my stomach is bothering me and...we should probably stop by the store on the way home. 

So we did. Got home, peed on that silly stick and so many memories came flooding back. 

I handed it to Ty and he just stared. 

"So, if it has a + sign, it's positive?" he asked. 

WHAT?!

The moment my eyes met the stick I had the same exact feeling I did when I found out with Sym. My stomach dropped the same way and my eyes welled with tears at the same pace. Instantly. 

OK. I looked at Ty, still reeling. This isn't possible. This isn't supposed to be possible. 

But God. :)

It seems His favorite thing to do is the impossible, because then we know, without a shadow of a doubt, it's from Him. 

It always is. 

Also, fun fact: The day after we told family, our old pregnancy announcement on FB resurfaced...but of course we couldn't say, "HEY GUYS NOT PREGNANT!" Because we totally were. #gotcha 

We're so ecstatic (and a little nervous) to add to our little family. Life in Austin has been amazing. This community has quickly become family. We're forming our tribe, and now we're gonna need them more than ever. 

What Did We Talk about Before This Baby?

Seems like the last couple weeks, this baby has consumed our every conversation.

"Babe, feel my belly, I think that's a Braxton Hicks."
"What do you think she'll look like? Brown hair yea?"
"Dude, she's gonna have your monkey nose and my giant forehead..."
"What if she's a rebel?" 
"Shoot we need to get her room ready!"
"Is my belly button popped out yet?"
"We need this crib, and this rocking chair, and these too!" (Says Ty in the middle of Babies R Us)

It's true. She has consumed us. There's a part of me that feels bad, maybe even a little guilty, that our life as we knew it is now over. I loved our life. More than anything. It was good, it was loving, it was free, it was, wonderful. An absolute wonderful life.

When I saw moms walking down the street with strollers I'd smile and go about my business. Now I crane as far as my neck will let me (without being creepy of course) to see what brand it is because it holds her diaper bag and her purse.

When we'd go to restaurants, we didn't mind the fuss of hungry toddlers in the tables next to us. But now, we both look at each other with fear, what are we going to do if Baby Girl Mo does that?! Tyson's answer usually is some joke that has to do with vodka.

I knew it would happen, we would cross over, but I thought it happens when she gets here. Boy was I sorely mistaken.

But you know what? It's amazing. It's amazing that this little person we've never met has us more in love with each other and life than ever before.


What about you? Did your first baby conversations switch over before you thought they would?
Will we ever NOT talk about it? :) 

3 Thoughts on Repeat this Mother's Day

My heart is full this morning, reflecting on the heritage and journey God has brought us through so far. And I don't mean "us" like just me and Ty. I mean "us" as in our families, grandparents and all. The Hallworth + Morlet lineage has weathered many storms thus far and to see where God has allowed Ty and I to be is, well, a bit overwhelming.

I knew this Mother's Day would be different than the last. How could it not be? This morning, it seems as though even my internal alarm clock decided to change it up. The pregnant girl who wakes up between 9:30 and 10:00 each morning, sprung out of bed at 6:30 to the sound of birds warming up their tiny vocal chords as if they were readying for some sort of anthem.

As I (almost) skipped to the kitchen, unpeeled my banana, I had these three thoughts on repeat:

1. I love my mom.
Not like, awe how sweet, I love my mom. But more like, I could never do life without this spit-fire woman in my life. I need her. She brings so wisdom and grace (and sometimes a kick in the butt) to every situation. She is irreplaceable to me. Irreplaceable.

2. I want to be like her. 
Some girls may cringe at the though of being anything remotely like their own moms. But if I could choose one thing about my momma that has shaped me the most, as a women and a soon-to-be-mother, it would be her vulnerability through imperfection.  My mom isn't perfect and she's made a lot of bonehead mistakes in her life, but she never tried to hide them. She never attempted to set a false standard of perfection for her family. She lives her life based on grace alone because she knows, oh she knows, it's vitality. I want to do that.

3. I am a mother.
This killed me. Even now I weep, because as a woman named Hannah prayed year in and year out for the promise of a child, I prayed for this baby girl snuggled so tightly in my womb. All I've said to her for the past two hours is, "You're here baby girl. You're finally here and I love you so much."

365 days ago I knew life would be different; but not this wonderful, magical, surreal kind of different.

The birds singing outside have settled into a rhythmic song of chirp & coo's, having no idea their music is the soundtrack for the celebration that is happening in this weary heart.

Are Our Experiences Really That Different?

You've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times, pregnancy and motherhood is different for every woman. 

I think that's true, until it's not. 

I feel like most women tailgate their mothering advice with, "but it's different for everyone." Like it's some sort of caveat they know is false, but they don't want to pressure you into having the same experiences they did. 

I've noticed a tricky trend where women talk about the horrors of dirty diapers and midnight feedings, but their eyes don't scream HORROR. With every detail of the "Flu-venge of 2011" there's a memory tape that plays as they tell the story. And their reactions? Well, they're not horrified. They're comical. Endearing. It's like those memories come married to the cuddle sessions and "Mommy I wuv you's" that followed. 

I started reading Melanie Shankle's new memoir, Sparkly Green Earrings: Catching the Light at Every Turn. (Buy the book!) A friend got it for me as a gift and to be honest, it's a book I totally forgot I wanted to read! (You have those too right?)

But not only is Melanie freaking hilarious in her deliberations of pregnancy, preconceived notions, and motherhood, she loves everything about being a mother. It's as if I'm sitting in her living room, with coffee brewing, and she's spilling her guts about the good, the bad, and the ugly. I feel like every page of her pregnancy stories I'm cracking up and silently screaming, "Dude!!! ME TOO!" But her delivery? It's all good. It's all beautiful. 

Many of you know this way more than I do, that mothering is going to be the best thing I've experienced in my life so far. And there's a reason we scream, "Me too!" And I love it. I love it all. But just know I'm on to you ;)

I think we're all more alike that we think we are. 

Until of course, we're not. 

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The Girl that Sings blog isn't a mommy blog, but I do post updates, stories and topics of motherhood I'm discovering and others I'm wrestling through once a week on Thursdays if you care to enjoy and join the convo.

Life is Meant to be Celebrated & Death is Meant to be Mourned

In the same week, I've been excitedly waiting with a friend whose baby girl is over due and mourning with another whose baby will never walk this earth. 

Emotions are jumping back and forth, and it seems like it should feel wrong, going from gladness to sadness. But each circumstance is tragically separate and beautifully united. 

Life is life. And short or long, each life is meant to be celebrated and the loss of it is meant to be mourned. 

Just as there are no words to describe the overwhelm of childbirth, there are no words to describe the depth of pain and sorrow in the loss of a child. 

No two births are the same, yet they are equally beautiful.

No two miscarriages are either, yet they are equally tragic. 

"Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep." Romans 12:15

Slipping Into Hiding

I don't have a lot to say these days. Most of my writing has been in my hand-journals or my head. Treasuring this little life growing inside of me has caused my soul to sit still for a while. 

I want to keep moving. I want to keep calling and writing and visiting and designing and talking. All that stuff is more natural for me than this stillness stuff.

But I know I am slowly slipping into a hidden season in my life. When I would over hear moms talk about their "hidden seasons" of motherhood, I have to admit, I dreaded them. For a fast paced girl, slowing down wasn't in my predetermined forecast. 

However, the last seven months of creating a human being has whipped me around and landed me flat on my butt. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally and spiritually. 

Physically, well, let's just say my beautifully growing body looks more like a road map gone rogue these days. But that's okay. I'm turning food into a human. (Did you meet my double chin on Instagram?)

Emotionally, I've had less bouts of pointless crying than we expected, but my heart has swelled to an entirely new level of love and fear. I love my baby girl. I love my husband. I love my life. And at the very same time, I fear for all of them as well. That's new. 

Mentally, I can't stop thinking about who she will be, what she will do. Will she be a rebel? We probably deserve it. Will she love Jesus? I hope so. Will she be healthy or happy? What do I do if when I screw up as a mom? Is labor really as kick-*** as everyone says it is? I don't think I can do it. 

Spiritually, I am more in awe and wonder and reverence of my God everyday. I want to know Him more, I long desperately to know Him more. I am soon to be responsible for raising and training a new little world changer and my relationship with God isn't just mine anymore. She will be watching. I want to know why He chose now and not then to give her to us. I want to tell the world how faithful He is and will always be. No. Matter. What. 

I am starting to see glimpses into the beauty and chaos of what lies ahead. And though your posts about spit up and poopy diapers and 2am feedings scare me a little, I know there's much more. 

So though there's not much to say, this softened heart is being molded like play-dough. Every color, smooshed together, into a big beautiful mess held up by a starry eyed child to her mother as if to say, "Look mommy, I made this flower for you!"

In a ground that was dry and cracking, a flower is springing up and it's not because of me. 

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I, the Lord your God, will not forget you." Isaiah 49:15

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The Girl that Sings blog isn't a mommy blog, but I do post updates, stories and topics of motherhood I'm discovering and others I'm wrestling through once a week on Thursdays if you care to enjoy and join the convo.

I Want My Daughter to Love Her God

I want my daughter to dream. 

In the last days,' God says, 'I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy. Your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams. (Acts 2:17)

I want her to know that God has chosen her to exist at this time, in this place, in this family, for a reason.

I want her to see the world, not as a broken toy that needs to be thrown away, but as a place of great possibility and beauty.

I want her to see her life, as a value to mankind, not only because of what she can bring to the table, but because of who her God has made her to be.

I want her to bestow grace upon the ungracious.

I want her to speak kindness to the unkind.

I want her to serve those who've never been served.

I want her to love those who feel unlovable.

I want her to move the mountains of impossibility.

I want her to seize the moments of greatness.

But more than all this, I first want her to love her God with all her heart, her mind, her soul and strength. And I know, without a doubt, the rest will follow. -

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Thursdays here on The Girl that Sings are specifically for that. I need you and your passionate opinions and experiences. Just remember to be respectful. Bring on the comment conversations.

Choosing A Type of Motherhood

A while ago, a friend of mine and i were talking about motherhood and how different it is once you're in the thick of it. She said, "Before I became a mom, I got to see my friends do it first. Then when it was my turn, I got to pick and choose what kind of mom I wanted to be."

Interesting. 

I've always admired various parents in my life, both old and young. I want to have as much discernment and wisdom and grace as my own mom and dad. I want to be creative and attentive like my auntie Missy. I want to be humorous and giggly with my girls like Kathy and Glen. I want to be sweet yet stern like Jen and Ryan.

I want my children to see and be a part of what Ty and I are passionate about, like Emily and Trav. I want to be okay with not having all the answers, like Colleen and Steve. I want to teach my sons to see my daughters as princesses like Tamara and Charlie.

This list could go on and on and on...

I know when the rubber meets the road, my philosophies and ideologies will quickly shift and sway, desperate to settle on a course. But there is no hard and fast course. Just grace, truth, and lots of chocolate.

What ideas about motherhood did/do you have before babies?

How have they shifted since? 

Let's talk.

**The wonderful thing about being a new momma is the wisdom pool of experienced mothers around you. Prior to computer and the world wide web, women still had each others backs. From baby showers and hospital visits, to midwives and doulas, women have always supported women in the area of motherhood. 

Thursdays here on The Girl that Sings are specifically for that. I need you and your passionate opinions and experiences. Just remember to be respectful. Bring on the comment conversations.

Changing the World by my 25th Birthday

The last 364 days have been a sweet and sour cocktail for me. I was just telling Ty at lunch, "I usually get to my birthday thinking how fast the year flew by. But this year felt a little too long." That's new.

The last 364 days were unexpected and some unwanted; but looking back, I can say I feel like I grew up a little this year.

You know when you ask a child on her 12,13, or even 21st birthday, "So! Do you feel (insert age)?!" No, is the typical response and oh so true. I don't think we ever really feel older until something happens to remind us of the miles we've put on our life's engine. 

But today is different. Today I feel 25.

I've dreaded the arrival of today since my 22nd birthday. To me, 25 is that age when you're "really" an adult. Like for reals. You can't mess around with life anymore. (I mean come on, I can rent a car now!) Your vocabulary slyly shifts from concerts and rag mags, to IRAs and fiscal years. 25 was my "far off" age that I always threw things off to, but never really soaked in its encroaching arrival.

When I was 20, I wanted to conquer the world by the age of 25. "5 years," I thought. "That's a long time! I've got this!"

To that girl, I'd say now:

Oh sweet and dreamy girl, 25 is not your end goal. By 25 you will have experienced a new depth of love, loss, sorrow and overwhelming joy. Yes, life will change, jobs will kick in (kinda) and people will have a new set of rules and expectations for you to follow, but by 25, you'll realize your life, as confusing and chaotic as it may be, is beautifully unwrapping before your very eyes. 

A couple weeks ago, when I was deliberating this whole concept to Ty, he smiled at me in the comforting way that only he can, and said, "Baby, you have conquered the world. You've started ripple effects that will change it long after you and I are gone." 

I kept thinking about his words all day. Ripple effects. Ripple effects. Ripple effects. And the only image I could see in my head was my Baby Girl Mo.

She is my world changer. 

Not just my personal and literal world, but a changer of the entire world. She will be strong, she will be courageous, she will learn gentleness and humility, and she will learn to be brave.

She is coming to me at a time I would have considered "past due," but God knew better. He created her to exist at a time when my human notions could have easily convinced me how fleeting life was. 

The world will change because of her.

So I face this next 25 years, shaking in my pink slippers and over stuffed from a birthday lunch, but completely confident in the woman God is fashioning me to be.

He knew when He fashioned and knitted me in my mother's womb, that disillusionment would be my kryptonite. But He also knew through the broken glass would be a life I could have never had enough time or imagination to dream up for myself.

I may move a little slower, watch my calorie intake a little closer, or even sleep a little earlier, but I can feel this is going to be a pivotal year. With preconceived notions seeing themselves to the exit doors, I'm sitting in my West Hollywood apartment, excited and a little nervous to see who I will be next year.

The Idea of Baby Registry

Original photo via Chic&Cheap Nursery | Edited by JMorlet

Does anyone else think the (amazing) idea of registering for baby stuff, before you have a baby is a backwards one? 

Before Baby Mo, I was ecstatic about baby showers. Cute, frilly, pink and blue, smell-goody things wrapped in pretty bows. But now that she's on her way, I'm staring at my computer screen, Target.com open on my web browser and totally clueless as to what I need or want. 

What kind of bottles will we need? They're all pretty much the same right? A breast pump, do you register for that or borrow it? Do people do that? I heard breastfeeding is a little, um, painful, how do I make it not so much? Someone once told me about this one thing that goes on that one place and... And don't even get me started on strollers and carseats. Between recalls and lifestyles, my head is spinning. 

See what I mean? If you're on Facebook, you saw I threw out my plea and got some really helpful responses! I feel like I have everything, but brands and preferences always make me nervous. So now I'm asking you:

-What do you wish you had registered for?
-What brands are your absolute favorites? Especially on diapers!

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**The wonderful thing about being a new momma is the wisdom pool of experienced mothers around you. Prior to computer and the world wide web, women still had each others backs. From baby showers and hospital visits, to midwives and doulas, women have always supported women in the area of motherhood. 

Thursdays here on The Girl that Sings are specifically for that. I need you and your passionate opinions and experiences. Just remember to be respectful. Bring on the comment conversations. 

Is Baby Mo Pink or Blue?

What's your guess? In typical Morlet fashion, we are split: Ty/Boy, Jules/Girl.

We find out Saturday! Wanna be the first in the know? Follow me on Instagram & Twitter. (Both usernames are @juliannamorlet) Facebook and blog won't be getting the details til next week.

Will I Worry My Way Through Motherhood?

Early on in this pregnancy, I met a woman in line at a coffee shop. We got to chatting about our favorite beverages, which led to where we're from, and then our family life. Only a handful of people knew we were expecting at this point, but I thought, I'm probably never gonna see this woman again and she definitely won't post it on Facebook. 

Sure enough, she asked, "So do you and your husband have any kids?" I smiled, both in my heart and my face and replied, "Actually, we're expecting our first next Summer." 

She squealed, as only a woman can do, offering her congratulations and typical banter of inquisitions. How far, are you excited, etc. And then her face got serious. She gave me a wink and said words I didn't know would ring so true so quickly: 

"Welcome to Motherhood sweetie, you'll never sleep through the night again."

There are days when I relish in the miracle that is growing inside me. I weep with gratitude that God trusted me with a little someone to raise and love and shepherd. 

And then sometimes I weep in pain because of the pinched nerve in my back or because I've been laying awake for 3 hours because I can't get comfortable as a recovering stomach sleeper. 

And then, then there are days when I weep out of fear. Sheer and terrorizing fear that something is wrong. It's just in my head, I attempt to console myself. You have no reason to think anything is wrong, I argue. But still, something sits in my worry wart brain and nags. 

I don't want to be a mother who worries her way through her children's lives. But I understand that is a very real part of motherhood. It's the tension I've watched other mothers, and my own, struggle through. 

Will that always be there? 
When is it "a mother's intuition" and when is it "a mother's fear for her children"? 
How do you tell the difference? 

Ultimately, my hope and my faith is in my God. It is He who gives and takes, who plans and purposes. Ty and I have been through the valley before and if we walk it again, we won't be shaken. 

But I have yet to sleep through the night.  

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***The wonderful thing about being a new momma is the wisdom pool of experienced mothers around you. Prior to computer and the world wide web, women still had each others backs. From baby showers and hospital visits, to midwives and doulas, women have always supported women in the area of motherhood. 

Thursdays here on The Girl that Sings are specifically for that. I need you and your passionate opinions and experiences. Just remember to be respectful. Bring on the comment conversations. 

Home Birth VS Hospital Birth

I made Ty watch The Business of Being Born with me. 

It was an act of love really. I wanted to watch it for educational purposes but it turned out to be one giant, holy-crap-what-is-happening-session. But I would recommend it for first time moms. 

At least for me, it was informative and enlightening on the decades old battle of home versus hospital births. This particular documentary was a little heavy on the home birth side of the argument but understandably so. I think. 

Like I said, this is my first time. 

What I've been contemplating the most is the freedom aspect of labor and delivery. I know I cannot program nor predict how those days will run, but I at least want the power to say yes and no, music or no music, people in my room or no people in my room, walking around or not. 

I've heard horror stories about nurses and doctors manipulating situations, women who didn't want drugs ended up getting them, women who did get (and want) drugs and they didn't work, etc. And I've heard horror stories of home-birth panics, health scares, unpreparedness, etc. 

All of the above scare me. But just a little. 

I understand this is a tricky topic, but it's one that a lot of you know and care about. 

So, the virtual floor is open:

-How/where did you do labor and delivery?

-What do you wish would have happened?

-What do you wish would NOT have happened?

-And any other unsolicited advice and website references:) 

*Please keep comments and opinions respectful as this can be a tricky and personal topic. We are discussing information and not personal attacks. Any rude or disrespectful comments will be deleted.

 

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The Girl that Sings blog isn't a mommy blog, but I do post updates, stories and topics of motherhood I'm discovering and others I'm wrestling through once a week on Thursdays if you care to enjoy and join the convo.

My Pre-Pregnancy Body

Everyone says your body is at its sexy prime between the ages of 20-25. Or really, anytime before you have a kid. 

I know it's a real thing, the pre-pregnancy and post-pregnancy body thing, but it's one of those phenomenons you can't really grasp until you experience the widening hips, the extra padding around the midsection, and the bust boost. (This post might be traumatizing/over the line for the men, sorry about that.) 

I've read some hilarious posts on topics like "what no one tells you about pregnancy" and "before I got pregnant..." and others of the sorts. Here's my brief rendition.

Before I (miraculously) became pregnant:

• I could talk on the phone and walk at the same time. Without sounding like I just ran a marathon. 
• The only problem with doing laundry was that I didn't want to do it. Now, stretching ligaments allows for only 1-2 loads. (Thank goodness!)
• Eating was something I did because I enjoyed it. Now, my body curses me at 3AM for more applesauce. Or bacon. 
• People said I wouldn't show til 16 weeks. Lies. All lies. Everyone is SO different.
• Nausea meant a mean case of the flu. Now, it brings me comfort. 
• I didn't think it was possible to love Ty any more than I already did. Now, we've entered a whole new beautiful world. 

I love being pregnant. Laying on that doctor bed, with it's crinkly paper and bright white lights, the ultra sound tech placed her chilly wand on my belly.

For a split second she couldn't locate the baby and my heart dropped. 
Turns out, Baby Mo likes to hang out a little more north than usual. 

I cried, first tears of relief and then awe.

Baby Mo was kicking around like a little soccer player (though I can't feel it yet) and it made all the chubbiness, abnormal bodily functions, and nausea worth it. 

There is a human being growing in my belly. A real, live, human being. 

That beautiful truth will never cease to amaze me and everyday I am overwhelmingly grateful. 

More on it next week. 

Baby Details: 13 weeks / Baby is moving around / Baby is size of a peach / Momma is craving mexican food and bacon

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The Girl that Sings blog won't turn into mommy-dom, but I'll post updates, stories and topics of motherhood I'm discovering and others I'm wrestling through once a week on Thursdays if you care to enjoy~

I Will Never Forget the Other Side of Motherhood

I have resisted the idea of Mommy-Blogger. I once went to a conference, having no idea how deep and wide the Mommy Blogger identification went, I was bombarded  overwhelmed by them.  

But now, I am a mom. No getting around that. 

I think mom thoughts, like how if we have a girl she won't date til she's 32. 
I feel mom feelings, like how love is showing up in quantities I didn't know existed.
I see mom sights, like this adorable stroller I will kill for. 
And so on. 

But I will also never forget the other side. 

I will never forget what it feels like to read someone's pregnancy announcement and cry tears of joy and longing in the same flow. 

I will never forget what it feels like to see my ugly crying face in the bathroom mirror because my period came, once again. 

I will never forget what it feels like to want something so bad, that without it you're not sure who you will be.

I know what it feels like to be broken, physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. 

I know what it feels like to be angry, at something completely out of your control. 

I know what it feels like to be hurt, by a God you've ascribed your whole life to.

But I also know what it feels like to have hope. Not just because I got pregnant, but because I was always a mother. Whether in 2012 or 20 years from now, by conception or adoption. 

I am someone's mother and you, all of you whose stories I've read and cried over... 

You are too. 

- - - - -

The Girl that Sings blog won't turn into mommy-dom, but I'll post updates, stories and topics of motherhood I'm wrestling through once a week on Thursdays if you care to enjoy~

We're Pregnant: Baby Mo is on the Way!

So, I can finally un-secret my Baby Pinterest Board.

Man Version of this Story:

We're pregnant. 

Woman Version of this Story:

On October 26, 2011 I wrote, 

Today makes 1 year of us trying for Baby Mo #1. And my period has come again... 2 weeks early. I am broken today. And a little lot angry at God. I know He loves me, but I feel so forgotten. A hopefully beneficial thing in all this is that ever since I told our story on the blog, so many women have come out of the wood-works with their own stories of heartache. I was so scared that if I told my world, it would make it all more real. I don't want it to be real. But, God is good. So I'll obey. Because I know He loves me. And He can take this silly girl's anger. --

The last year has been a whirlwind of awkward conversations, ugly cries, jaw-dropping stories from women I would have never guessed struggled with fertility, and little graces of hope. 

Exactly one year later (totally unplanned), October 26, 2012, I opened my journal and scribbled these words, 

I am 2 weeks late. Yet this time around, I have a greater peace. I have not won this battle, but I know, I know with all my heart God's way will outshine my way. Three weeks ago I gave up babies again. This time, with a promise. I told God that I was going to go full speed ahead in life. Between this church plant and the girls conference, heaven knows I can keep myself more than busy. I promised I would move forward if He would promise to give me a warning sign when He was going to allow us to become pregnant. That's all I wanted. I wanted time to slow down. --

Unbeknownst to either of us, a sweet (new) friend gave me that warning. She posted Isaiah 49:15-16 on my Facebook and said she couldn't stop thinking about me when she read it. 

It says, 

"Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you." (Isaiah 49:15-16)

I was afraid to read into it.

I couldn't be.

I JUST said I was going to move full speed ahead. 

Like three weeks ago.

So I wrote it down and moved on. 

Two days later, I was guest worship leading at a new church and was horribly nervous. So nervous, in fact, I threw up in the women's bathroom. That was strange. I don't think I've done that since 6th grade.

That afternoon I slept. For four hours. That's strange. I never nap. 

Ty left for a concert with some friends and I sat on the couch, sicker than a dog, clutching my stomach. There's no way. But I should take a test just in case. But there's no way. Seriously. 

I turned on the shower, dug out that Clear Blue box I'd been saving for a time such as this, and peed on that stupid little stick. All the while, coaching myself through the cyclically familiar grief I was about to relive. 

It's gonna be negative. It's so gonna be neg---

I saw it. It was clear as the sky is blue. That little sucker had a double line.

Without notice, my eyes flooded and my heart began pouring out praise and thanks to my God. I bawled, all alone, in my West Hollywood apartment, because once again, though He didn't have to, He gave me my heart's desire.

That night He reminded me of this: 

Julianna, I haven't changed. I didn't become more good. This isn't proof of my faithfulness, because you and I both know I was faithful before you even took that test. This is proof of my blessings. I. See. You. I. Will. Never. Forget. You. 

No, I replied. No You won't.

- - - - -

Many of you have walked this journey with us and want to say, from every fiber in our beings, thank you. You have cried with us, prayed over us and with us, emailed us words of immense encouragement, fed us dinners and caffeinated us with Starbucks, and we are forever grateful for each of you. 

This baby isn't just for us. He (yes we think it's a boy) is meant for so much more than to be a Morlet child. 

He is meant to show the world just who God is. He will have his own purpose, his own story and his own journey of faith. But in the meantime, we will share this gift with you. ~

Other Details: 

9 Weeks along / Due end of June-ish / Feeling amazingly nauseas / Craving cucumbers / Popping a tiny bit, but it's probably mostly gas.