Dear baby,
Before you arrive, I wanted to tell about our life—and yours—before you were
born.
This spring, your dad was still in graduate school and I was working at the
opera. One night in the middle of May, I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to
cook, so we went to Yogi's (a sports bar with great cheap chili fries) for
dinner. When we left, I joked that maybe I was pregnant--and then I realized
that I could actually be pregnant. My first pregnancy test didn't work at all,
and the second was very faintly positive. I had to tell your dad that I thought I
was probably pregnant, and he agreed that it looked that way.
We were excited, but we knew things would change. Your dad was pretty
stressed out. He had just found out that his grad school funding was being cut
and the program didn't really want him to continue. So he was trying to decide
if he would start looking for his first full-time job, or do something
else. We had always intended that I would stay at home with you, but of
course at least one of us needed to have a job!
The first people who knew about you were actually some of the ladies from
our church who were in my book club. They advised me on choosing a doctor for
you. Eventually I decided to see a certified nurse midwife and made an
appointment. The midwife did an ultrasound, and I found out I had been pregnant
for a month longer than I thought! You were already ten weeks old, and I got a
picture of you with your little nubbins of arms and legs. When I got home
from work that day, I took the picture to your dad. He was
speechless. He thought you were beautiful right away.
Dad wanted to be involved as much as he could right away. He did a lot for
me when I was tired or feeling sick, and when I picked up a stack of baby name
books at the library, he got to them before I did and made a list of the names
he liked. We picked out a boy's name and a girl's name together.
We told Grandma and Grandpa F. about you over the phone, but Grandma
and Grandpa J. came to visit us in Bloomington so we got to tell them in
person. Of course, Grandpa J. had already figured it out—he's impossible
to surprise. We had planned to tell them in the evening, but we also met for
lunch at Chipotle and your dad made a comment about how I was eating a lot.
That made your grandpa suspect what was up.
I did feel tired and sick sometimes, but mostly I've had a perfect
pregnancy. Even when I was nauseated during the first trimester, I never threw
up. I went to work with a big bag of food every day—leftovers and yogurt and
nuts and probably too much chocolate. For a while I couldn't stand to
cook. Handling raw meat was awful. There were a couple of nights that all I
could make was plain boiled chicken and white rice, which your dad ate without
complaint even though he didn't much like it. He cooked quite a bit too, but
sometimes that didn't make me feel better either. The smell and taste of soy
sauce was horrible. I could smell a bowl of salsa from rooms away.
Your dad had started looking for a job. He must have sent out a hundred
resumes, and it was very frustrating. At first, he was feeling pretty burnt out
with classics and applied for some jobs based on his work at the National Lab.
Later he started applying for private school jobs too. Most places never even
got back to him; he had one phone interview, but it didn't go anywhere.
Finally, at the beginning of July, a school in Scottsdale, AZ, called and asked
him to fly down and teach a sample class. He went even though he had to cut his
shoulder-length hair short and take out his earring (he did that for you!), and
they offered him the job. We were very excited—it looked like a good
fit, and it was pretty close to your dad's family. But even before the deadline for his response, Dad got an e-mail
saying that the job offer was withdrawn. We were shocked and frustrated. He had
planned to call and accept the job that day. Now we know that God used that job
offer to prepare us for his next opportunity, but at the time it just seemed
like his only chance at a job had evaporated without explanation. I
started to believe that I would keep working, and your dad would be a
househusband for a while.
Early that spring, I had planned to work at Camp Shetek for one week in
July, so I traveled to Minnesota by train right at the beginning of the second
trimester. All my nausea and tiredness had disappeared overnight. I got to tell
a lot of friends about you in person, which was fun. I was working in the kitchen,
of course, and Mom Judy wouldn't let me handle any cleaning products or climb
the stepladder to get things from the high shelves in the pantry. Summer Harms
had just had a baby, and Audra was pregnant, so it was fun to talk to them
about the future. I wasn't really showing yet, but I was wearing maternity
shorts because they were much more comfortable. I think I'm the only
pregnant War Games sniper ever.
On my Thursday in Minnesota, I came back from dinner to find seven missed
calls on my phone, and a message from Dad to call him back right away. When I
reached him, he told me that on Wednesday he had sent a resume to another
charter school in the Phoenix area, and the head of school had called him back,
interviewed him over the phone, and offered him the job all in one day! They
needed an answer right away. Not only that, but they wanted him to be in
Arizona by the end of the next week for a teacher-training retreat. The job
would involve teaching Latin and ancient history to middle- or high-schoolers,
and maybe he would get to teach Greek eventually. In just a few minutes over
the phone, we decided that this was a good opportunity, and Dad should take the
job. Now we know that was a good decision, but it was a big step of faith at
the time.
I was so relieved that your dad had a job, but I knew I would have to quit my
job and pack up our condo and get it on the market mostly by myself. That was a
busy time, and I was fortunate to have a lot of help from Grandma F. (who
helped me pack), a crew of guys from our church (who painted the condo and
packed the moving van), and Grandpa J. (who drove the moving van
cross-country by himself). Your dad got started at his job and found a place
for us to live by the time I got there on August 13. Aunt B. and Uncle
E. came to help us unpack, too.
Because of the move, the usual 20-week ultrasound had to get delayed. I was
at twenty-five weeks before I had found a new place for prenatal care. The next
week I went to get an ultrasound by myself. I got to see you and your little
fingers, and even your brain and heart! Your dad and I wanted to find out if
you were a boy or girl together, so the tech had me close my eyes while she
checked that out, printed and labeled a picture, and put it in an envelope for
me. She said you looked perfectly healthy and just the right size.
I picked up your dad at work at day, and when we got home, we opened up the
envelope and found out you are a girl! We were happy. I think your dad is
especially excited to have a little girl—since he doesn’t have any sisters, it’s
a totally new adventure for him.
Now we’re just waiting for you! Every month (and now every week) I see a
midwife to get weighed and measured and to hear your heartbeat, and they tell
me everything seems perfect. I feel you kicking and moving around quite a bit.
Last night you had the hiccups. You’ve been head down since the ultrasound. A
few weeks ago, we went to get the hospital tour, and we did a one-night
birthing class with the midwives, too.
Like I said before, the pregnancy has been very uneventful. I’ve had
four or five people tell me that I have a “cute” or “perfect” belly—you were
adorable even before you were born!
We’ve had four baby showers for you! One in Minnesota, one in New Mexico,
and one with each of our churches in Bloomington and Phoenix. Your grandparents and aunts and uncles have
been especially generous in helping us prepare for you. Last week, Grandma
J. came to spend some time with us to get the apartment nice and fill up
the freezer. We arranged all your things in our bedroom, and all of the cloth
diapers I picked out for you arrived.
Yesterday was exactly one week from your official due date, and your dad
noticed that it looks like you have dropped a little lower. Today I feel a bit
crampy and tight, so I hope that’s a good sign. I’m sure you’re sick of Dad
poking at you and reminding you that you should show up before his Christmas
break ends, so please come soon! I’ve packed my hospital bag, and I tucked in
the little yellow sweatsuit I wore home from the hospital for you.
Love,
Mom
12.27.2011
12.02.2011
Nerdy moment of the day
For Christmas, I bought That Guy this year's LEGO Star Wars advent calendar, which he, obviously, will be opening before Christmas. Yesterday he opened the number-one door to find a little bag of LEGO pieces and some assembly instructions.
The finished item was clearly a space ship of some kind, but he handed it to me, saying, "I don't recognize this one."
And then, a crowning moment of awesome. The next words that came out of my mouth were "It looks kind of like the Tantive IV, but red. Isn't there something like that in Episode 1?" I think this is where I have to admit seeing The Phantom Menace three times in-theater. Don't blame me; I was 13 and didn't know any better.
A quick consultation of Wookiepedia confirms my suspicion: it's a consular-class cruiser that "was designed as a 'devolved' version of the Tantive IV to provide a link to the original trilogy."
By the way, the Tantive IV, for the less-pathetically-nerdy among you, is the space ship in the opening scene of Star Wars when Princess Leia is being pursued by Darth Vadar. But I still don't know anything about Star Trek, I promise.
The finished item was clearly a space ship of some kind, but he handed it to me, saying, "I don't recognize this one."
And then, a crowning moment of awesome. The next words that came out of my mouth were "It looks kind of like the Tantive IV, but red. Isn't there something like that in Episode 1?" I think this is where I have to admit seeing The Phantom Menace three times in-theater. Don't blame me; I was 13 and didn't know any better.
A quick consultation of Wookiepedia confirms my suspicion: it's a consular-class cruiser that "was designed as a 'devolved' version of the Tantive IV to provide a link to the original trilogy."
By the way, the Tantive IV, for the less-pathetically-nerdy among you, is the space ship in the opening scene of Star Wars when Princess Leia is being pursued by Darth Vadar. But I still don't know anything about Star Trek, I promise.
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