“Do you want to know what you’re having?” Kristen, the ultrasound tech, asked me. Jerry, Ezra, and I sat in a dark room in the radiology department and looked at the black and white image of the little baby I’m carrying.
“Yes!” I answered immediately. I couldn’t handle not finding out when I knew the option was available. Everyone seemed to be predicting it would be a boy. A little brother for Ezra. That would be best, practically speaking. We only have two bedrooms and he could use hand me downs from his brother, etc. Jerry and I tried not to hope too much for a girl when any baby at all was such a surprise blessing. It almost felt ungrateful to hope for a daughter when we were being given such a gift as this pregnancy.
“It’s a girl!” said Kristen a short time later. So overwhelming. She handed me a tissue and murmured something about enjoying “happy tears.”
That was my daughter on the screen.
We went out for lunch to celebrate on that cold, snowy day. Afterwards I went into a little thrift shop and had way more fun buying a bag full of tiny pink items than the $9 they cost.
So all through this cold January I’ve been dreaming in pink and feeling my little one stirring around. It has been an odd mix of euphoria and terror. It seems like I recall and hear every single story of a stillbirth or miscarriage or freak pregnancy happening that there is. Before my ultrasound I was nervous because I heard two stories of mothers with the extremely rare circumstance of babies developing without kidneys. I breathed a sigh of relief when Kristen located babies kidneys and remarked on her beautiful heart. Every time I feel baby girl moving I pray for her wellbeing and protection. I’m so much more aware of how little control I have than I would have been had this pregnancy happened 10 years ago when I was a newlywed. Taking things a day at a time is helpful. Every time I take my prenatals, go to a doctor’s appointment, or progress to a new week in my pregnancy, I’m thankful.
And baby girl names and clothes are pretty much the most fun hobby ever.
I recently finished the Anne of Green Gables series for the umpteenth time. In the final book there is a line about a character saying that the person involved “never got excited over anything, and so missed a tremendous amount of trouble and delight in her journey through life.”
I think there’s a lot of wisdom in that. Sometimes I think I get borderline preachy when I blog so I won’t go on, but in a way at 32 I feel so far removed from who I was when I used to read Anne of Green Gables at 15 that I can’t quite believe we’re the same person. A lot of the changes have been for the better, but I do miss looking at the world unsuspectingly and assuming the best would happen. And being spontaneous. Since little kids do better with routine and warning usually, that goal might have to go away for awhile.
Being pregnant is so different from adopting and so much the same. The tears came in the same way on the day when I knew Ezra would be our son. The crazy fears and prayers for his welfare were the same. But the waiting is so much easier in pregnancy because I know that it’s best for baby girl to be born when she’s ready. I get to keep her close and not wonder if she’s being treated kindly or not. And since I’ve had an easy pregnancy as far as symptoms go, I think adoption was way more difficult so far.
Here’s to the end of January’s cold gloominess and the rosy hopes of springtime!
