The Wh*** of Washington

I took a pregnancy test last Thursday. It was positive.

I took another one last Friday. Still positive.

So I am pregnant with my third child by my husband. And I feel like I need to wear a scarlet letter.

I've made no secret of the fact that he and I are separated. Trying to work stuff out, but still separated. In fact, the weekend prior I pretty much told him I felt like the end of our marriage was inevitable - that I just was too tired to keep figuring him or myself out. We'd had a fight a couple of weeks ago and instead of talking through it we both kind of dissolved into a "name-calling, I know you are but what am I?"fest. However, a couple weeks prior to that (about a month ago) he and I had a great weekend together.

And one month later, here is the evidence of that weekend.

On Thursday the one thing that kept repeating in my head was that song that Tina Fey and Maya Rudolph sang a few years ago on SNL about their babies. The chorus was, "You're the proof that we've been doin' it. Your mom and dad have been doin' it."

Babies, in my opinion, are ALWAYS a blessing. Even ones I would consider to be "poorly timed." This child makes no difference in my marital status, unfortunately, just as my children who have been around a few years make no difference. For a fleeting moment, I thought perhaps it would. If I needed anymore convincing that there is nothing here on earth that will make a difference, I got it tonight after a hellish argument. I think I'll just leave it in God's hands and stop "trying" so hard. It's not doing one bit of good.

But I'm grateful for this child, my third reminder that God is in the business of blessing, even when we don't really deserve it. That thought makes a difference in my heart, tonight and for always. My children are a picture of His vast, unconditional love. And for that, I could never be sorry. I can only be thankful.