pregnancy

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Things Lost and Gained

Dear Soybean,

It's been awhile since I last wrote to you, and I'm sorry.  You and I have been through quite a lot the last two weeks.  They say that you feel everything I feel-- I say God forbid!  But if you do, you deserve an explanation for the flood of grief and distress you've been put through.  It is so scary to think that even before you're born you're experiencing heartache.  Life isn't fair sometimes and I'm glad you have decided to stick around to see the good life has to offer since you've already felt the depths of pain it serves up as well.  It can only get better from here.

I never thought I'd have to tell you this, but we lost your Uncle Adam.   It's still a bit too painful to dwell on so I'll just give you the bare facts--he died at the age of 22 in a car accident on March 6 (two weeks ago today).  It's a comfort though that he knew about you and that he was absolutely elated to be an uncle.  His girlfriend Holly (aka, "Peaches") was with him at the time when he heard the news and I'm hoping I can get her on video recounting how he reacted so that you will have something to treasure when you get older. 

Everyone was telling me to take the loss as easy as possible for your sake, and I tried, really I have.  Still, I think you will grant that the loss of someone close can only be taken with a fair measure of anger, sadness, and grief.   I hope you turn out to be a happy child, not molded in the womb into a crying, morose person on my account--I don't know that I could forgive myself.  Everything the last two weeks turned into a blur... I'll admit that even you seemed to take on an "unreal" feeling.  Stepping into the room that will be yours though and seeing the gifts Kristi bought for you brought you "home" again.  Not that the ever-present nausea could ever let me completely forget that you're coming.

We may have even found a name for you yesterday!  I recently found out that our last name Nall is Irish, so I looked up Irish baby names and found Aven, meaning "fair radiance."  Your dad and I both love it because it's uncommon but not completely outlandish like naming you Moonlight or Crimefighter (I found those both on celebrity baby names lists today, can you believe it??!) and with your parents' complexion, you will definitely be "fair"--nothing dark about you at all, haha.  Your dad told me today that he has a gut-feeling you may be a girl  :-)

Your dad was so cute... yesterday he verbalized his worry that God may come before you are born and he may miss out on being a dad.  I assured him that as far as we know, God will let us raise you in Heaven should He come first and I asked Chris what better place is there to raise a kid?  That seemed to make him feel much better.  Because indeed there's no telling when Christ will come again.  I'm looking forward to that day when I'll be reunited with loved ones like Adam to say goodbye no more.  Your dad and I had such good times with your Uncle Adam and Uncle Stephen, that I can't wait to see what adventures we can get ourselves into in eternity. 

Your dad has been a real bulwark of comfort and compassion for me the last two weeks; I tried to verbalize how thankful for his support I've been last  night at dinner but got all choked up.  He's a real gem of a man; this morning he made you and I breakfast in bed.  He made his first attempt at an omelette--it was a vegetarian omelette and it was good.  I'm not even an omelette fan but this was less egg-y than most. 

Last night I had a bit of a scare... this pregnancy adventure is stressful at times, especially since I haven't been through this before.  I took a tiny little jump getting out of the truck since it's high off the ground and felt like I pulled a little muscle in my lower abdomen.  Afterwards, I had occasional, small, tickle-like feelings flicker across my stomach.  Everything is fine today and I'm still feeling great (except for the nausea) so I'm sure I just temporarily pulled something, but from now I'll keep the 3-point contact rule of getting out of vehicles.  It's just a ton of little things like that keep one wondering if everything's okay and all.  I think I'll feel better once we're through the first trimester.  We get to "see" you again this Wednesday and your dad is coming to the appointment.  He's so excited.

In addition to you, I'm a bit worried about myself too.  I can feel myself falling into a depression and I'm trying to shake it off.  When your dad asks me what's wrong, I can't pinpoint any single cause. I think it's a combination of a whole lot of factors.  I want to be able to stay home and raise you but it looks as though I may have to stick with my job in order to pay the bills.  It makes me a little angry that money has a lot in determining what one can and cannot do.  My dissatisfaction with my job and the loss of Adam have me feeling very unsettled and I keep getting the urge to run away and find/experience something completely new.  If your dad were okay with it, we'd probably run away to New York City and get jobs making just enough to scrape by but yet feel rich because we'd be able to take you to Central Park every weekend. I absolutely loved New York City and I hope to be able to take you when you get older.

I just don't know, little Soybean.  But sitting in my dark room all day can't be good for either of us so I'm thinking of going out and buying some roses to plant in the yard.  Probably yellow roses because those were your great-grandmother Scheffler's favorite. 

Just hang in there, okay? relax and just grow.  You've already stolen the hearts of several and we can't wait until we can hold you at last.

Love you.

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