January 2020
It’s been eight months since trying to have a baby, and I’m starting to feel desperate. Two weeks ago, we went on a weekend trip with friends to Nashville. Perfect timing I thought. Everyone says you’ll get pregnant on vacation and it just so happens our trip lined up with ovulation. In fact, I took an ovulation test every chance I had. The pressure I put on myself to catch ovulation felt as intense as the pressure Scott felt to give every cycle his all.
This cycle felt different, though. We were on a trip with friends filled with live music, fun, and most importantly, a break from our hectic jobs. The following weekend was Christmas, with an anticipated New Year’s Eve party after. Perfect timing, I thought again. We’d be so distracted with the holiday fun that we’d start the new year with our surprise.
The holidays flew by and it was time for my period to start. Early one morning I decided to take a pregnancy test. As I waited for the results, my mom sent me a sweet “good morning” text.
While my mom and I talk on the phone almost daily, her love notes usually arrive in a group chat with my brother – and never so early in the morning. Perfect timing, I thought. A moment of comfort, just when I needed it. Because sure enough, I picked up the test and read: not pregnant.
A few hours later, I couldn’t shake the serendipity of her timing, so I sent her a message. Our exchange went like this:
Mom: Good morning! Just saying hello and have a great day.
Me: Hi Mom. You have a great day too. Love you.
Me: Hello Mom. I am at work now. But right before you texted me this morning I took a Negative Preg Test. You sent me a sweet good morning text message before I had a chance to look at the results. But you never send me texts so early, so I am wondering if you had motherly instincts to text me today. Maybe an angel told you to text me at the perfect moment.
Mom: You were on my mind even more so this morning and that must have been why. I will send all my angels to wrap their wings around you and keep you safe so that you will have a baby when the time is right.
A mother’s intuition. It’s something I always wondered if I inherited from her, even at a young age. Looking back, I often felt an overwhelming sense of intuition. At ten, I’d question if I was psychic, given how often I could predict the next song on the radio (though as adults, we know how predictable the radio can be).
One time, I was driving and had an unexplainable urge to stop at the nearest store to play specific numbers on Keno (a gambling game). I called my dad and told him I couldn’t explain it, but I needed to play Keno. Following his instructions, I filled out the ticket – and within minutes, I won. Even though the prize was a ten-times bonus, I accidently filled out the quarter game instead of the dollar game. We still laugh about it today, though I haven’t filled out a Keno ticket since.
While those are silly, trivial examples of intuition, I’ve always felt connected to something deeper. My mom says I’m an old soul, but this felt greater.
When I got my driver’s license, my mom gifted me an angel pin to keep on my windshield. Holding the pin for the first time felt like an epiphany. What if the presence I felt for all these years was my guardian angel? The thought resonated with me, so I decided I would name my angel after my paternal grandmother, Coralee, who sadly passed before I was born.
For the next decade, that angel pin – and the comfort of my guardian angel – followed me through every stage of my adult life. One night in college I decided to talk to Coralee. I did not grow up religious, so these are my first memories of prayer beyond the dinner’s blessing. After one of those prayers, I remember distinctly asking her for a sign. In the middle of the night, I woke up to my iPhone charging dock blaring Love Me by Lil Wayne at full volume.
In the moment, it wasn’t funny – it was alarming – but I laughed the next morning. I figured Coralee loved my college party playlist.
Her presence became a silent constant in my life. When Scott and I began talking about marriage and children, I told him – and his mom – that we’d have a baby girl someday, and it would mean the world to me to name her after my angel Coralee.
Little did I know though, this baby girl – whether she was born of my intuition, a dream, or one day a reality – would come to influence our years ahead.
