Boy...or girl? Caleb and I had debated whether or not to find out the sex of our baby at the ultrasound. I wanted to so we could prepare the nursery but Caleb wanted to be surprised. Interestingly, we had two friends whose ultrasounds were wrong—after all that painting and planning. Since we couldn’t agree, we’d at least agreed not to find out this time even though my mom was chomping at the bits to know. But we got the sweetest pictures from the ultrasound. We couldn’t stop staring at them trying to figure out who Baby Steadman favored. I think he/she has Caleb’s high cheek bones and my mouth. There was even one photo of the baby sucking its thumb. I was now five months pregnant and my next ultrasound was in six weeks. Caleb had been feeling strong kicks when he held his hand on my belly and kept assuring me we had a football player growing in there. I told him it could also be a strong ballerina. He loved talking and singing to the baby each night and told me, “I want our baby to recognize me on the outside.”
Two weeks later, Jason told Caleb that Jennifer was pregnant! If we thought the church ladies were excited before, they were almost beside themselves to be getting two new pastor’s babies. The ladies at the church had decided to freshen up the church nursery. Miss Shirley had spearheaded the event and had convinced George to help paint. He told her, “As long as I don’t have to paint any figures on the wall. Straight painting is all I do.” Miss Shirley was so invested in the task because she’d diapered everyone thirty years and younger at the First Baptist nursery. In fact, it’s where she got the name Miss Shirley—she was very loved. I couldn’t help stopping by to see how that relationship was developing but they shooed me away as Miss Shirley warned, “Honey, these paint fumes are not good for you or that baby. Go home and put your feet up.” So I did.
I’m an avid Fixer Upper fan. And I’d seen an episode where Chip & Joanna Gaines had designed a nursery for a couple. I was determined to find the grayish-green color they’d put on the walls. It would be the perfect color for a boy or a girl. Caleb had never been much of a woodworker, but his dad was a master carpenter and they were building a baby bed together and working on it every Saturday afternoon. Caleb had learned a lot. “Ok. Find the color,” he told me, “and I’ll do the painting in the evenings next week. Just promise me you’ll stay at your mom’s until the fumes are gone.” And that worked perfectly for me. I called mom and asked, “Mom? Would you mind helping me make the bedding for the baby bed? I’ve seen a quilted bumper pad and bedding I want to copy.” We made a trip to Ace Hardware for paint and to Joann’s Fabrics for matching neutral fabric. Mom offered, “Do you want curtains to match? Let me get the fabric for that.” The nursery was coming together.
Caleb was right. George was a slow burner. I just knew he was interested in Miss Shirley. How could I help this relationship along? Dr. James Dobson said, “If you want to solidify your family relationships, go camping!” By that, he meant things were sure to go wrong—but it would cause the family to come together. I called Jason and asked, Do you have all the sponsors you need for the youth rafting trip?” “No! You aren’t volunteering, are you?” he laughed. I replied, “Sorry—not me. But have you thought about George and Miss Shirley? They wouldn’t have to raft, but I know they’d be great sponsors. They love the young people and they both love to cook.” Jason could see right through my obvious matchmaking attempt but he promised to give them a call.
Mom and I finished the adorable crib set and curtains and Caleb had painted the room and aired it out before I came back home. Now we only needed to get the bed finished. As I walked in, Caleb said, “Guess what? George & Miss Shirley are going on that rafting trip!” I squealed with delight. I really wished I could go just to see what happened between them but Caleb said, “Better let this develop or fall apart on its own, Merry. If you can’t sustain it, it’s not yours to initiate.” I sighed. I knew one thing I could do. “God, I love these two people. And they seem like a perfect match to me. I hate for them to be lonely. If it’s Your will, please draw them toward one another and let them fall in love. And God? Use this youth trip! In Jesus’ name, amen.” It’s the best I could do.
Our next sonogram was here. Amazingly, we had already agreed on both names—a girl’s and a boy’s. “Caleb,” I insisted, “The names have to be spelled correctly. I don’t want my kids having to spell their names to everyone all their lives. And daddy told me that he’d had to correct every teacher who called him by his first name when he actually went by his middle name. So I really want our child to go by their first name.” He agreed. We’d learned the importance of our names at a conference and were convinced of the significance of its meaning because we’d both lived out our names. Merry Noelle Bishop Steadman meant Happy-Christmas-Overseer-Farmer. Caleb Bartholomew Steadman meant Loyal Friend-Ploughman-Farmer. So we definitely put lots of thought into the names we’d picked. We’d chosen either Henry William Steadman or Ava Belle Steadman. The boy’s name meant Ruler-Protector-Farmer. And the girl’s name meant Life-Beautiful-Farmer. Whew! At least we had that figured out. And I think because we knew the names, Caleb had relented and decided we could be told the gender today. TODAY, we’d find out which it was—a boy or a girl. And I was beside myself!
“Mom? How would you like to come help me with Henry William Steadman at the end of August?” I had to hold the phone away from my ear because of her screaming. Caleb & I looked at each other and laughed. I hoped Henry would have his sparkling eyes.
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