Four weeks I came home from an evening out with Ian and the guys to the most life-changing news of my life: Rachael was pregnant, and in an instant we went from newlyweds to parents.
I cried. A lot. True, some of if might have been attributable to the two or three drinks I had just consumed, but 95% of it was joy mixed with surprise and shock. I suppose that some of it had to do with the fact that I never really fully grasped the idea of me being a father. Sure, I was married; and sure, we were trying to have kids. But the sudden realization that this was real, that a new life had been created from me -- and parts of my parents and all of my ancestors before me -- was truly amazing to me.
We've spent the last few weeks looking forward to our first doctor visits; our first one is tomorrow at 1130am in Arlington. We've both been reading books, blogs, articles, and suggestions from friends on what to expect, how to care for our new addition to the family, and what risks we might be facing with the pregnancy.
Risk. That's something I don't think either of us ever thought of when we decided to be parents. The risk of miscarriage, birth defects, stillbirth, or negative health impacts for Rachael have all been things that we've been thinking about. A lot. I don't think more than a few days have gone by where we haven't had to reassure each other that we're both in reasonably good health, that we haven't had much in the way of family history for birth defects or serious health issues, and that we're both going to be great parents.
Rachael has spent a good amount of her time recently feeling nauseous, weak, and tired. Everything we've read says that this is normal, and that this will all start to go away in the next few weeks leading up to the end of the first trimester. It can't come soon enough for both of us - she has been getting nauseous even at the smell of things like raw ground beef for meatballs last night.
We told our immediate family two weeks ago that we're expecting; we both were laying in bed on a Sunday morning and decided that we just couldn't wait for week 12 to come along to let everyone know, which is when the miscarriage risk decreases significantly. We were so excited about it that we found ourselves leaking the news to one friend after another, and finally Rachael broke it to Melody and Holly one night on the phone.
We spent the morning calling our mothers, Wayne, and Caroline to give them the good news: they were all going to be first-time grandparents. Our moms cried; Wayne sounded like he couldn't stop smiling about it. I'm sure that they suddenly felt twenty years older. Grandparents. Wow.
We've decided on names already. Nora Caroline for a girl, and Joseph Wayne for a boy. We decided to name them both after Rachael's father and Caroline - two of the nicest people I've ever met and who have both done so much for Rachael and have gone out of their way to welcome me into their family.
Both names also have some history for my family. Nora Hayes was my great-grandmother on my fathers side who, with her husband Michael, came to the United States together in 1889. It's also Hebrew and Arabic for "light". The name Joseph has been used by the men in my family back to my great-grandfather, all with different middle names. I've always known that I wanted to name my first son Joseph, and I am happy that Rachael agrees to the same if we have a baby boy.
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