I walked into the office filled with dull, tired faces, dressed to the nines in ties and suit jackets. People talked amongst themselves, probably causing their counterparts to feel queasy with the air around them infiltrated with coffee breath. I found myself wishing for the thousandth time that I could just fast-forward a year until I had completed graduate school so I wouldn't have to work in this depressing setting anymore.

I wished I didn't have to wake up so early so I could prepare for my boss' meetings later that day. I wished that I didn't have to wear such a constricting skirt to appease the dress code, especially with how bloated my lower belly felt. I wished I could be at home doing anything other than making schedules for meetings and greeting clients with a smile. And I wished I didn't have the headache of the century.

But then I reminded myself of how my life used to be and how it could look now if not for a family of angels and the grace of God, and tried to stamp down the negative thoughts I had.

I could have been working in the hospital that morning. I did, in fact, work at the hospital as an RN during the school year and sometimes during the summer, juggling school work and people's lives. However, I knew that if I were to put myself through graduate school doing something I loved, I might end up deciding to quit going to school and just remain at the same level forever. I wanted to be a nurse practitioner and that required seemingly endless amounts of school work and money. If that required working summers, then I'd do it.

So, I spent my summer at a prestigious business as an assistant, saving up to pay for my second year of graduate school. It was hard trying to work, getting called in for night shifts at the ICU in which I would spend the next few days zombified, and trying to spend time with Noah when I could.

We married last summer July twenty-third.

It was small, of course, Noah's family technically being mine too. We married in a church, with witnesses that loved us both. Jolie had been my maid of honor and, though she tried to add her quirky touches, she helped me plan the perfect wedding. My breathtaking fiance had cried as I walked down the aisle in my trumpet style dress with my arm threaded through Papa's. Noah's brothers stood proudly beside him, beaming as we said: "I do". The wedding was flawless and the day had easily been the best day of my life. Even though it had been a year since Noah and I had said our vows, people joked we were still in the newlywed phase.

In reality, we just loved each other a whole lot. Noah's heart was something so pure and passionate, that I found myself yearning to work harder to match his ethic and drive. I loved the way he spoke, so thrilled to take on each new challenge of the day, to perform each task God had called him to do and to do it well. He poured his heart into caring for me and for his family and students. He still woke me up nearly every morning with a kiss that made me feel like he was the only thing that mattered. He still smiled at me like I hung the moon. And even after all these years, I still catch him staring at me as if entranced, even when I don't have a trace of makeup on my face. He spoke of me like I had been placed on this earth just for him, like the both of us were meant to share our story together.

Of course, we get on each other's nerves. In fact, I had yelled so hard once when Noah said something that I didn't like that I lost my voice for three days. He had yelled back, his impressive lungs making me scream even louder. He had stayed the night with Isaiah to cool off. But Noah knew me better than I thought I knew myself. We had grown up together. He was my voice in those years that I couldn't speak for myself. And despite him hurting my feelings sometimes, he is usually very logical and mostly right.

I thought about how hard it had been to leave the house this morning, the love of my life walking me to my car, his rugged scar covering the expanse of his broad shoulder. I had been tired and unmotivated and the only thing I wanted was to return to bed with my husband.

Of course, he would have to leave for work soon after I did anyway. He and his team were taking part in summer practice. The team would arrive early that morning and work drills, and return later that night for more work and a scrimmage. Noah was a football coach and teacher at the high school we graduated from, and I had never seen a man so devoted to his work. He had spent his college years on the football team, studying kinesiology and education.

Noah had never planned to play professionally after college. Although he was fantastic, the game really took a toll on his body. Each game left him with bruises and scratches, and never ending sore body parts. His friends on the team had begged him to move forward and make an effort to be drafted. Nevertheless, on a cold night in November, God decided that Noah would put his cleats and helmet up for good.

At the end of a completed play, when he didn't know to be aware, an angry lineman, easily ninety pounds heavier, from the other team tackled Noah from the side and broke his collarbone and dislocated his AC joint. It was believed that the blunt force trauma received from the large man slamming on top of his body caused his fractured clavicle.

It just so happened that was the one game I could not attend, doing a clinical in the hospital ER. It was truly traumatizing to see my fiancé rushed in on a stretcher, delirious from pain, shirtless with only a makeshift sling covering his midsection. His bruised and swollen shoulder sagged considerably and trying to lift his arm caused him to scream out in agony.

The x-rays showed the fracture was comminuted and displaced, the break of the bone out of line with many pieces fractured. I shouldn't have been able to help treat him due to hospital rules, but we were short staffed and I had no choice. I had to fight between remaining the calming nurse I had been taught to be and the frantic fiancé that was trying to take over.

Noah received surgery that next morning, spending the night with heavy medication to ward off the pain. I was forced to complete my shift before being able to comfort him. The surgery involved the clavicle being reshaped to its original position, the bone fragments being held together with plates and screws. It had been a very hard recovery for my ever active husband. For someone that had become accustomed to running two miles every morning and spending up to three hours training a day, Noah became depressed and agonized over not being able to so much as lift his arm.

Of course, after rehab, lots of prayer, and three months of working to obtain the proper function, Noah was back to exercising regularly. But he didn't want to go back to the football field, because the end of the season and his football career, had come to a close while he was recovering in a hospital bed.

Despite the pain and the devastating shock of losing his abilities so suddenly, Noah remained a positive light and continued his schooling and became an All-level Kinesiology graduate. He began his first year of coaching as I started graduate school, teaching Science classes to Juniors and Seniors. He loved the kids, becoming an incredible role model to them. Sometimes I couldn't contain the pride I felt for him.

"Eden, please, I need you to get me a coffee and meet me in the conference room." My boss rushed in, his papers askew and the back of his suit jacket flapping like a cape in his rush. That was how Charlie Greenberg was. Although he was never extremely late, he carried himself like he had left his clients waiting for three hours.

"Yes, sir, right away," I said and rushed to the kitchen. I made Mr. Greenberg's coffee just the way he liked it, three scoops of sugar and a lot of half-and-half. I tried to ignore the way my stomach rolled at the smell. I then retreated to my temporary office to grab the neat stack of papers I had prepared for the meeting.

It wasn't usual for an assistant to work only in the summer, I knew that. I knew that Mr. Greenberg had a year-round assistant that was given the summer as a break in order to accommodate me and provide me with a job. I was lucky, for sure. My coworkers called me the "seasonal" assistant. My boss really appreciated what I did, despite how short my time at the office was.

I think it was because I worked so hard, even when I hadn't slept for twenty-four to thirty-six hours because of required shifts at the hospital. I always made sure that Mr. Greenberg was well equipped for meetings, aware of the changes his colleagues had made to the company and prepared for future endeavors. I liked this company and the people in it, but I found it boring. I had become used to keeping patients healthy or helping them get better. I was always ready for equipping patients with a new IV, wiping the bottoms of those that couldn't do it themselves, even resuscitation when a patient flatlined. My other job wasn't as exciting when my sole purpose was to write notes and listen to business negotiations from nine to five.

I took my seat beside my boss and turned on my recorder, taking note of anything I deemed important. Mr. Greenberg nursed his coffee as he nodded at the business proposals shot his way. He didn't say much during meetings, his body language domineering and pensive. I knew that he was really just trying to take in every possible option to better his company, everyone else probably thought he was shooting down their ideas.

That was the way most days went, three or four meetings, lunch, two-or-so more meetings, and finally, the day was over. It wasn't a bad job and it paid well, I reasoned that I should be grateful for the opportunity if I could only see past my headache and nausea.

❃❃❃

As I stepped inside the house Noah and I had officially bought four months after our wedding, I could smell the makings of my favorite, chicken alfredo. I prayed I would be able to hold it down tonight. With the traffic in the busy city, it always took me close to an hour to get home, putting Noah home before me. He loved cooking for me after work. I was a lucky girl.

I walked into the kitchen to see my husband in his typical khaki shorts and blue polo shirt shuffling a pan of chicken and alfredo sauce. His hair was messy and slightly flat with the absence of his cap and he was singing softly to a song on the radio. Lucky girl, indeed.

I walked up to him quietly and wrapped my hands around his firm waist, squeezing slightly and kissing the back of his neck. Noah jumped slightly but seemed to melt into me when he realized it was my arms around him.

"How was your day, pretty?" he asked while putting the spatula down. He turned to face me and wrapped his arms around my back.

"It was fine," I said with a sigh, moving to sit on the island behind us. My tight skirt offered limited mobility but I kicked my legs softly. "Charlie only had four meetings today so I spent the rest of the day organizing and planning. How was your day?"

Noah smiled. "I think we're gonna be good this year. It's a great team, they work really good together." I could tell how excited Noah was for the season to begin. Even though he wasn't playing, he truly loved the sport and delighted in helping his kids do well.

Noah pulled himself on the island beside me and leaned his head on top of mine. "How are you feeling?" he inquired, taking my hand and rubbing the palm. He was referring to me throwing up early last night and this morning. I sighed, dreading the conversation. I hated not being completely honest with Noah.

"I'm fine, Noah, really. I told you I felt much better after I threw up. I didn't have a fever, I just felt nauseated, okay?"

"But what if you got one of the sicknesses from the hospital? What if it involves throwing up once or twice, and the next thing we know, you're a zombie or something?"

I rolled my eyes. Noah was always going on about the possibilities of obtaining one of the illnesses going around at the hospital. Of course, nobody ever became zombies, but Noah was convinced it would happen, and with my luck, it would happen to me. I was always reminding him to have faith and know that I would do all that I could to stay safe. To be honest, I thought I knew what was wrong with me. And truthfully, I sort of wished it wasn't true.

I had missed a period. I was completely aware of the common symptoms of early pregnancy, and I knew I had hit every one of them like clockwork. It just so happens that Noah and I had failed to use a condom once.

I wasn't worried about supporting a baby financially. I knew that both Noah and I had saved up quite a bit during our years together working odd jobs, and Papa and Momma would love to help now that Eli was almost six. I wasn't worried if the baby was going to be loved. Noah had been talking about a baby since we'd been married. I wasn't even worried about the baby's health, I would do everything in my power to keep the little one healthy.

I was worried about the inconvenience of time. Noah was just about to start his second year of coaching. I was about to start my third year of working at the hospital, the second year of graduate school. Noah and I had agreed to wait until we were both working and when I was out of school.

Time never seemed to accommodate to anyone, but I knew that wasn't really true. God places challenges on our plate when He knows we have the strength to rely on Him, despite if He thinks those challenges will inconvenience us.

I had been hiding subtle symptoms for weeks. I went to the bathroom every thirty minutes it seemed, I bled a tiny bit in my underwear and wrote it off as an extremely weak period, I was constantly tired, and my head felt like a jackhammer was constantly hacking away. However, there were certain symptoms I couldn't hide. For example, I would have crazy mood swings about nothing in particular, I'd turn green at the smell of some of my favorite foods, and recently I'd even yelped when Noah brushed my boob with his hand. I couldn't deny the fact I was most likely pregnant, I just didn't want to believe it.

I ate in relative silence, never needing much to talk about anyway. Like always, Noah talked like he had an infinite amount of oxygen. I usually loved hearing what he had to say, but tonight my head throbbed and I felt more drowsy than ever. Tears pricked at my eyes.

Forever attuned to my needs, Noah noticed the tears and became concerned. "What's wrong, baby?" he voiced. He stood to comfort me and by the time he was at my side, I was sobbing.

It was weird being so emotional. I knew that nothing was really wrong, but I wanted to scream and cry for no reason. I was a mess.

"I-I-I d-don't know what's wrong." I dragged the last word out as I cried. Noah looked terrified as he took me into his arms. I never cried. He must have been thinking the worst.

Noah rubbed my back soothingly. "I thought you said your day was fine. Did someone say something? Are you getting enough sleep?"

"I t-think I'm p-pregnant," I wailed, prompting my husband to pause. He pulled away and checked my face, searching for any jest in my words.

"Wait, really?" Noah couldn't hide the hint of anticipation in his voice. I could tell he was excited. "Did you get a test?"

"N-no, but all the symptoms are there and I feel like I am," I howled. I could tell Noah was trying to keep the grin off of his lips. I could almost feel the happiness burning off of him.

"Why are you crying then? This is great!"

"For you, maybe. I've still got two jobs and my last year of graduate school. I'm exhausted as it is! How am I supposed to do what I need to do while growing a tiny human?" My voice was whiny to my own ears. "Momma's going to kill me."

"Well, I've been meaning to talk to you about that anyway. I've got a raise in the works I think. The athletic director has decided he's going to retire before the start of the season and he wants me to take his place."

I'm floored by his admission. Although the tears seem to have no end, a bubble of anticipation grew in my belly...Or maybe that was indigestion. "What about the other coaches that have been there longer?"

"That's what I said! And they're all a little ticked about it, but even they admit it's best for the team. They think I have the right plan and the drive required. If I get this raise, you can quit your assistant job."

I thought about it. If I didn't have to work all the time, I could focus on the baby and prepare for my studies. I'd still have my job at the hospital and work every few days, but I wouldn't be so exhausted. It actually sounded really nice, like an answered prayer I didn't even know I had prayed.

I knew that not working for Charlie wouldn't really hurt us money-wise anyway with Noah getting a raise. We had enough saved up, I likely could put myself through graduate school and provide for the baby. The revenue from being an assistant went to its own account, its purpose to pay for school. Although we would have to count pennies I started to believe that a baby was extremely plausible.

Of course, I would have to juggle many obstacles, especially school, the hospital, and a new baby, but I actually felt quite excited about the new addition. I was certain that I could put off school for a few years if the need arose, and that Noah would do anything he could to help out. Life wasn't looking so bleak. A baby had been what we had dreamed of from the beginning, after all. Noah had a way of bringing me back to reality.

I wondered why I tried to keep huge things from my husband. I always let the thoughts get too out of hand and punished myself for them. Noah had a way of making everything seem alright. He was always patient, always encouraging. Even working long hours and pushing myself seemed just fine when Noah was there with me.

"I'm proud of you, baby," I praised. "You're still so young, and already head coach!" I wrapped myself around him, nuzzling his neck, wiping my eyes with his polo. He didn't answer because he had other things pressing on his mind.

"Do you really think you're pregnant?" I could feel he was shaking with unkempt joy.

I nodded, my head brushing up and down on his chest. His heart beat fast and hard against my cheek. "I mean, all the symptoms are there. I'll need to test, but I'm pretty positive it'll be positive."

When he spoke, I heard the smile in his voice even though I couldn't see it. "Can we go get a test now?"

❃❃❃

Three tests later, we knew our answer. Three positive test results.

I tried to understand why I felt so shocked. I had known for a few weeks I was probably pregnant. I didn't know why a positive test result would make me feel any different.

Noah was dancing around the room, way more overjoyed than I was. He was talking away on the phone with Momma. I almost felt bad because I wasn't as excited. I wanted to be happy, but I just felt scared.