Expectations

I cannot believe a year ago this month Berilac and I packed up our skinnied down set of belongings and our two dogs and moved from the North Bay to the Bay Area.

I remember what an ordeal it was trying to finish remodeling our home in the North Bay (which btw, is worthy of its own post) while commuting 100 miles to work each week AND while trying to find a place to live.

The picture here is of me in our current rental. Beautiful staging, huh?

It’s amazing how some good decorating can make a place (and a fantasy of a lifestyle) look so inviting. Yes, we moved from a great area, but many people were telling me how much I would love the “big city” (relatively speaking!). I was excited to be starting a new career there. Berilac and I were approaching our timeframe for having little ones and my new job would accommodate that better than other careers I’ve had in the past. The weather is supposed to be even more mild in this area. And the culture, restaurants, events, and community in this part of the Bay Area is supposed to be highly desirable. On all accounts I should have been so excited to be moving here.

But I was hesitant. We moved away from all of our friends and my family (an area I had never moved away from in all of my 29 years). We had just finished remodeling our home, a home in which I thought I was going to become a stay at home mom at. Instead I started a new career and contemplated how I could swing a new job while raising children.

But alas, I don’t have to worry about that just yet. It’s amazing how our townhouse (now) doesn’t look anything like this beautiful staged house and how our life isn’t exactly filled with little children that I’m having to juggle with work. Instead it’s just me, Berilac, our two mangy mutts and our stacks of “junk” in place of the beautiful fantasy of a lifestyle.

Last year, this month, I got pregnant with our first child. Talk about fantasy and expectations.

This here is the first picture of me pregnant. (I didn’t know it at the time) … We had Berilac’s parents in town to help us move into our new townhouse (Ponto & Lila) and at dinner one night we had gotten onto the topic of our least favorite body part, I shared that mine was my stomach … little did I know that at that time there was a little baby forming in my “disappointing” tummy.

We found out just after Ponto & Lila headed home that I was pregnant (we weren’t actively trying at the time so it was a bit of a shock) … but of course we quickly got excited and started fantasizing an amazing new life for our little one.

This is us the night we learned we were pregnant – talk about expecatations and innocence. I remember getting frustrated at the restaurant because I’d never been pregnant before and I had heard that there were so many things you weren’t supposed to eat … I didn’t know what on the menu was safe and was very scared and cautious about what I ordered.

I remember all the hopes and dreams we had for our little one (at the time we didn’t know it was a little girl). We fantasized about how our baby would look, whether she’d get dad’s height genes or mom’s thin hair. We boasted about how beautiful, smart, and athletically talented this kid would be. We wondered if we’d accidentally pass on the trait we dislike in us the most: our tendency towards judgment. We eagerly awaited March 31, 2007, the due date. We hoped and prayed that this baby would know the Lord.

Today a friend of mine is having a procedure. It’s the same procedure that I had to endure more than once. My heart goes out to her. I think of these pictures of me … so hopeful, so expectant … and my heart breaks for her and her husband. I know the hope and expectations that get washed away. I know that pain all too well.