Between the Blessing and the Feast

November 23, 2017 was the day I turned 32 as a married Army wife who was 9 weeks pregnant, with an already 15-month-old daughter. As it was also Thanksgiving, join me, as we walk through that day from waking up famished to feasting and all of the surprises that happened in between.

It’s 7am and I am awakened by my blaring alarm coming from my iPhone on the nightstand. I reach over to press the snooze button but then remember what the day is. It’s my 32nd birthday… and Thanksgiving.

There is too much on the agenda, so I just turn off the alarm instead, as I peel back the covers, rub my stomach to say good morning to the tiny human I am growing before slipping into the bathroom to get the morning started.

While I brush my teeth, I feel myself swaying side to side as if I have my toddler on my hip needing comfort. I’ve heard it being referred to as the “mommy sway” which feels very fitting as I am feeling extra maternal this morning.

The morning sun filters into the bathroom from the large window above the garden tub providing the perfect ambiance for the start to this special day.

After my morning routine is complete, it is time to start my daughters so I go into the kitchen, take out one of her larger cups for her morning milk and as I am pouring, I hear her little voice say “mommy” on the monitor.

Once I finish filling her cup, I go into her room saying good morning as I open the curtains to let the morning sun naturally fill it with light.

She is smiling up at me, with her left thumb in her mouth and her right hand lifted as she twirls the blonde curls covering her oversized toddler head.

I pick her up out of her crib and over to the changing table where the white noise machine is still on. I turn it off, unzip her Halo sleep sack and change her disposable diaper that is lined with adorable blue whales.

We had just switched over from cloth diapers to disposable diapers once I found out I was pregnant so I realize I am still adjusting to the change when I go to spray the disposable diaper with my handy bidet into the toilet.

“Oops, mom, pregnancy and 32-year-old brain are hitting me all at once today I guess.” I jokingly tell my one-year-old as I hand her the cup with her morning milk in it before turning on the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

She curls up on the couch still wearing her matching Smore’s pajamas mesmerized by Goofy dancing across our screen as she sips her cold milk from her orange cup.

While she is entertained, I go back into the kitchen to get her breakfast started. I see our bananas are starting to turn the perfect shade of brown for banana pancakes so I decide to use them up for breakfast.

I can hear Mickey calling for Toodles from the living room as I get the flour, cinnamon and vanilla extract from the pantry. I then pull out the griddle to get it warmed up while I mash the bananas and mix all the ingredients into a batter.

Once the pancakes are cooking, I look through the fruits we have on hand to see which I should pair them with. I decided on raspberries and blueberries, as they are my daughters favorite.

By the time the fruit is rinsed and plated, the pancakes finish fully cooking, ready to be plated and served. I then deliver her breakfast, served picnic style on our living room floor as she finishes her cup of milk and the episode of Mickey Mouse winds down.

I decide to just stick with a hardboiled egg I had prepared the day before as my breakfast since I was never really a breakfast eater, plus I was nauseous from my first trimester.

I ate it standing in front of my counter that faced our backyard that houses our chickens, enjoying what they provided me with gratitude.

I could smell the scent of cold leftover coffee from the mug that my husband had left out before leaving for the gym an hour earlier, which typically I enjoyed but this morning, only added to the nausea.

I powered through eating the rest of the egg as I knew I needed the sustenance for the day ahead while my 1 year old made her way into the kitchen to ask to be held.

After putting her on my hip and washing my hands so they didn’t reek of eggs, I took her up to the playroom in our upstairs loft to get a bit of play time in before her nap.

Our plans for the day were to go to my Aunt’s house for Thanksgiving with most of my family members where I knew it was the perfect opportunity to let everyone in on my surprise.

A bit of backstory to the journey of me becoming a mom includes 7 years of infertility, fertility treatments including IVF and an FET, both resulting in early miscarriages, leaving us with no remaining embryos.

3 months after my second miscarriage, I found out I was naturally pregnant. It was 2 days before Christmas so I was able to tell my family on Christmas Day and that pregnancy resulted in my rainbow baby and first daughter, born in August of 2016.

This pregnancy was also natural, planned and worth celebrating so I decided to wait to tell my family until this day, as it was both my birthday and Thanksgiving, making it the perfect scenario for an additional surprise.

Only days after learning I was in fact going to be a mom of two under two at 32, I reached out to a dear friend that owns her own embroidery business.

I’d known her since High School and have supported her shop for many years, so I knew she was my go to person for my plan.

I had her embroider a shirt that said “I’m thankful this year because I’m going to be a BIG SISTER” to which I planned to change my daughter into at our family celebration.

Since we were still on a twice a day nap schedule and the time to go over for our Thanksgiving feast was at 2pm, our typical schedule needed to be altered.

After a bit of play time, I could tell my daughter was getting sleepy, so I made the executive decision to give her a filling snack in place of her usual lunch and place her down for her only nap of the day.

While I was getting her settled, my husband came home from the gym and gave our daughter a quick giggle before getting right into the shower to get himself ready for the day.

During her nap and while my husband showered, my stomach started to growl, reminding me I only ate one hard boiled egg that day, so I made myself a quick and small lunch of a tuna fish sandwich.

I took my food upstairs to catch up on my reality shows that were recorded onto my DVR, in our loft area to have a bit of quiet before the chaos of the rest of Thanksgiving begins.

Once I finish eating, I head back downstairs to see my husband has finished getting himself ready and is posted up on the couch, browsing the internet on his phone.

The living room smells like his Old Spice body wash and the bathroom is still steamy from his shower.

“Happy Birthday!” he says, pointing out a small bouquet of flowers and a card on the dining room table.

I thank him, put my plate in the sink, fill a vase with the flowers with water and read over my card before he also enters the room. I thank him again with a hug before going to shower myself to finish getting ready.

Once I am ready for the day, feeling prettier than usual, wearing makeup and my new pink sweater, I wake my daughter from her nap as it is approaching 2 o’clock and we have been told to head over to my Aunt’s around 3pm.

Upon waking up, I give her an applesauce and a Cliff Kid’s bar to fill her tummy before our feast, I then change her into a nice olive green shirt that I have chosen to be the decoy.

I give her hair a quick brush before gathering last minute items, including the important shirt before I text my family that we are on the way at 2:30.

The drive is about 20 minutes from our house, but my husband stops for gas which extends our ETA by 5 minutes, leaving me anxious about possibly being late.

Once we pull up to my Aunt’s large brick home, tucked into a neighborhood of grand houses with perfect lawns and a lake, glistening in her backyard, I can see everyone’s car already in the long circle driveway.

“Wait, how are WE the late ones this time?” I say to my husband, taken aback by the fact that family members from out of town are already here.

Due to my own brain guilting me into never being late for anything, I am usually one of the first to arrive at any family gathering.

Being early also helps me prepare for all of the social interactions ahead, so seeing everyone has already arrived leaves a massive pit in my stomach.

“I feel so bad, I hope we aren’t holding anything up!” I say out loud, paranoid.

“Don’t feel bad. We are here on time, in fact we are early. We are not holding up anything,” my husband responded.

Easy for him to say, he doesn’t exist in this neurodivergent brain of mine, telling me otherwise.

I sigh, open my car door and go to unbuckle my daughter from her car seat, that is rear facing in the backseat. Seeing her face light up as she recognizes where we are, helps any anxiety I have fade away.

My husband grabs the large Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag that is filled to the brim and drapes it over his shoulder to carry, like a cross body bag.

I pick up our daughter, taking in the scent of her hair as she wraps her tiny arms around my neck. I carry her up the stairs to the large french doors before knocking.

Within seconds, my husband is also standing behind me as the door is opening. My Aunt who owns the home is greeting us, reminding me yet again, I could have just walked in.

As we enter, I am instantly at home as the smell of the food cooking, lingers throughout every space in the house.

I have spent almost every major holiday in this home my entire life so the smell, the decor and the energy are all so comforting for me.

After closing the door behind us, my Aunt stretched out her arms to give me and my daughter the warmest hug while telling me “Happy Birthday baby”.

I hug her back, breathing in her familiar Coco Chanel perfume that has a flowery scent with notes of orange, rose and jasmine, as I stand on my tip toes to reach her.

After the embrace, she ushers us towards the living room/dining room area. My husband goes first, setting the diaper bag on to a nearby chair before looking startled by something in the dining room.

I take notice that something has caught his eye as being abnormal but I cannot yet see what or who it is.

As I am walking towards the same area, still holding my daughter, I start to hear whispers and see my husband start to grin.

Once I have fully turned the corner into the dining room, I see most of my extended family standing around the large glass circle table with a cake saying “Happy Birthday Ash” and a candle lit on top.

Moments later all thirteen of them are singing the Happy Birthday song to me in unison as I look on, stunned and awkward but full of gratitude.

After they are finished, I set my daughter down to go play with my cousin's son, who is only a few months younger as I think of a wish and blow out my candle.

I say thank you as I give everyone hugs while trying to hide the fact that this won’t be the biggest surprise of the day.

For the next hour or so we spent time snacking on sausage balls and German cookies, while I came up with valid excuses as to why I couldn’t eat the soft cheese that was available.

As my Aunt was the hostess of the Thanksgiving gathering, I had let her in on the surprise early to help me execute. Once it was time to feast, she whispered to me, it was time to change shirts.

She then announced to the family it was time to gather around to say the blessing so I told my husband it was time as he grabbed the diaper bag and our daughter to change her quickly in the guest bedroom.

As I am atheist, the blessing portion of our family gatherings are not my favorite but I participate out of respect while silently hoping they would start without us this time.

In the guest bedroom, atop the well made queen size bed, we quickly change her diaper and shirt before letting her go run free ahead of us, to see who would be the first to notice.

Upon arriving back into the dining room, we discovered they had waited for us, saving two adult size spaces for us to squeeze in to hold hands around the table.

We awkwardly walk over to our respective places in the blessing circle while one of my other Aunts, the oldest of the 6 siblings, reaches down to pick up my daughter to include her, without noticing the shirt change.

As everyone clasped hands to start the blessing, I casually remarked to my Aunt holding my daughter that her shirt was different.

She looked down at the now white long sleeve shirt with an embroidered saying, that had previously been an olive green long sleeve top, smiling but not noticing what it said, responding “oh yeah, cute”.

My husband and I shot one another a look before I continued with “well, what does her new shirt say?” which prompted her adult daughter to walk over and adjust the shirt to read it out loud.

“Let me see mom,” my first cousin, who is the mother of three adult children, as well as a grandmother, says in her sweet and whispery southern accent.

“I’m grateful this year because…” she starts reading, adjusting the shirt to read the rest better as her mom is still holding my daughter who is smiling, loving all of the attention.

“I’m going to be a…. BIG SISTER?!” She finished reading aloud before everyone turned to look at me, stunned by what they just heard.

“Are you serious? Is this for real? Are you really pregnant? Naturally again?” were the first round of questions, followed by “how far along are you, when did you find out and do you know the gender?”

I explained I had known for close to a month and I had the shirt made ahead of time to surprise them as it was special being both Thanksgiving and my birthday.

Hugs and congratulations were then given out by all before we again, circle around the table, clasping hands as one of my Uncles starts to say the blessing.

He was standing directly next to me as he included in his blessing gratitude towards bringing another life into the world and hoping for a safe pregnancy while he squeezed my hand to let me know it was about me.

I smiled to myself, knowing how loved this baby was going to be, how loved my daughter is and how loved I am despite the differences with my family.

My father, their brother and the 3rd born out of 6 siblings had unexpectedly passed away 9 years earlier so I had essentially become an orphan who never had to feel alone as they all became my surrogate parents and grandparents to my children.

Following the blessing, I received a few more hugs, belly rubs and congratulations before we all started to eat our feast which included my favorites such as homemade bean dip, butter beans and the most moist fried turkey ever.

My daughter even received the royalty treatment by being spoon fed mac and cheese by her loving surrogate grandparents.

The rest of the evening was spent with family, talking baby names, taking guesses on gender, enjoying each other's company while watching the tiniest humans wear themselves out.

Once the contagious yawns started to circulate, we knew it was time to call it a night as we packed up our things, said our goodbyes and closed out the most memorable Thanksgiving of our lives.

Upon arriving home with full bellies, hearts and a huge secret revealed, I settled into the remainder of my 32nd birthday by giving my daughter a warm, soothing bedtime bath in our large garden tub.

The room was filled with the relaxing scent of lavender from the soap as I held up foam alphabet pieces for my daughter to recite.

Once bath time was over, I quickly wrapped her in a warm towel, slathered her soft body in lotion, put the cutest pair of “Big Sister” footed pajamas on and brushed her blonde curls.

As I brushed her hair, she drank her last cup of milk made by her father and ate a final bedtime snack. I then read her a book while snuggling in the glider, sang a song, turned on her white noise and said a final goodnight as I placed her into the crib.

Walking out of her bedroom I could see the room across the hall, which led me to think about how that will soon be where the newest human I am growing will sleep, as I feel an overwhelming sense of peace wash over me.

My then husband and I closed out the evening by discussing what a successful birthday and Thanksgiving it had been as well as how excited we were to complete our family while watching Thirteen reasons why together on our couch.

Now as I approach my 40th birthday in November of this year, 2025, with a new life partner and that baby I had been growing, now a seven-year-old, I can’t help but reminisce on the memories of that special day as it was about so much more than the food.

It continues to remain the most memorable Thanksgiving of my life, filled with meaningful surprises that unfolded between the blessing and the feast.