It was one year ago today that baby Brent was supposed to arrive. A year ago last night Kevin announced that we were naming the baby Brent.
I burst into tears.
My parents had come down hoping to be with us and help out when he was born--hoping he would be early. He wasn't. They were scheduled to leave on the 11th or 12th. I knew their time was drawing short. I was disappointed for them that they had gone to the trouble and expense of driving down and there was no baby.
Then Kevin, who had spent the vast majority of the past nine months not talking about which name he wanted, announced at the last minute that we were naming him Brent. I had spent the last six months bonding to him by a different name: Brenner.
Add that to the hormones and you get temper tantrum and a flood of tears. I'm not sure that's quite the response Kevin was expecting. Up until then I had felt like I had no control over any aspect of the pregnancy. I couldn't control the weight I gained, I didn't adjust to the larger belly very well and could never get comfortable in clothes, I spent most of the last three months with heartburn thanks to the pre-existing GERD, I had been tested extensively for blood sugar difficulties (nothing definitive, but I still had to watch what I ate--and know that I could end up with diabetes later). I had also just been not rehired at my job and at six months pregnant when that happened there was no chance of someone hiring me, getting me trained and then hiring a replacement as I went on maternity leave--so I started to work from home, with the trials that come from trying to find work in a world where I seemed "too expensive" for most buyers.
We had also just come through a miscarriage, the purchase of a home (along with a very eye opening experience with the realtor) the previous fall.
So, I felt the only thing I had influence on was a name. I came to realize I had no control over anything. Nothing was in my hands, not even the name of the child I had carried for nine months. Eventually my husband conceded on the middle names, so I was able to use both middle names I wanted, instead of just one. (Incidentally, Brent was my husband's middle name, so through my hormonal stupor I realized I couldn't really fault Kevin for wanting to name the baby after himself. This was the reason I eventually accepted the name.)
So, a year ago day, the day came and went with no baby. And a new name.
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