My grandmother passed late last year. She was amazing, to say the least. It's been a hard goodbye for our family, she was my dad's last living parent and very close to us. Today, she would have been 78 years old.

Today, despite a few factors that make this seem impossible, I had two positive pregnancy tests. My husband just had a vasectomy two weeks ago. I took my IUD out to try for another shot, but we changed our minds. We used condoms every time except one, and I even took a plan B once I realized we had sex a few days before my ovulation unprotected. I thought I had a period, I was bleeding red for 6 days. Not light, bright. He had a crisis about never having a boy of his own, but still said he wasn't ready for a 3rd and he would get over it. But last night we went out, had a drink and some delicious Caribbean food, and I got home and puked shortly after getting to bed. Assumed it was my acne antibiotic, but I decided to test this morning anyway to rule out pregnancy. And I got the darkest two lines right away.

I believe in God. That He works even when we don't see it. Even when we can't feel it. He's working for us every day. And I just know she's in heaven too, and she loved all our babies even though she didn't see them often, so I know my grandmother was a part of this in some way. Today is so bittersweet. If this bean sticks, my due date is around my dads birthday❤