It was Christmas Eve and our third anniversary...and my birthday. (My parents’ blessed me with a Christmas name—Merry Noelle. It’s only necessitated me spelling my name all.my.life.) God had packed so much in our three years of marriage. Caleb was a bi-vocational pastor at First Baptist Church in Sunrise, TX but he’d also purchased Mr. Troyer’s farm and renamed it Steadman Farms. He planted cotton and wheat and was slowly growing his herd of cows. He told me, “It feels a little lopsided. I know I spend more time farming than preaching and that bothers me.” I was still advertising for A Lotta Latte and Sam & Lynn jokingly told everyone, “If you want your life turned upside down, hire Merry Steadman!” Their business had skyrocketed. Caleb & I were on our way to the city to celebrate. We planned to eat at Hoffbrau Steakhouse, catch a movie, and look at the Christmas lights.
I was excited about this celebration even though I was sure I’d never be able to eat those famous Brau Chips. We’d agreed: no anniversary gifts. The evening out was for my birthday. But I couldn’t wait to give Caleb his gift. After we were seated and had ordered, Caleb said, “Happy birthday and anniversary, babe! I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a nice gift. But if I had all the money in the world, I would have taken you on a beautiful European Christmas Market Cruise. Well...as long as it was only a seven day cruise.” We both laughed, knowing he’d probably never leave the farm that long. At least he knew what I’d love to do some day. And really, splurging to go out to eat and to a movie was enough. When the Brau Chips arrived, Caleb looked at me quizzically, “Merry, aren’t you going to eat?” He knew I loved those crispy chips dipped in ranch dressing, but I told him, “I’m saving room for that steak!” He’d forgive me for that little white lie when he learned the truth.
After we’d eaten and had gotten to the movie theatre, I grabbed Caleb’s arm as he was about to open the door to the pick-up. “Wait, Caleb! We have a few minutes and I want to give you your gift before we go in.” He had a frustrated look on his face and said, “Merry Steadman! We agreed not to give each other gifts.” I said, “Just open it. Please.” I’d already reached in my purse and pulled out a 5x7 manila envelope with an obvious long bump in the middle. Caleb looked at me as he opened the envelope and then he peered inside. I’ll never forget that shocked look as he pulled out the pregnancy test stick. I began laughing and crying at the same time—a thing I really never knew was possible until that moment. He grabbed me and gave me a huge hug and I thought he’d never let go. “A baby?” he asked as he held me at arm’s length and looked at me, “REALLY??” And then I was back in his arms. His tears mingling with mine were a sure indicator that God’s gift had already pierced his big ol’ soft heart. He was going to be a good daddy.
We never went to that movie or saw the Christmas lights. We made the rounds of both sets of parents to tell them our big news. We couldn’t wait. They were over-the-moon excited. My mom squealed with delight, “A baby! My first grandbaby! Wait—that means I’ll be a G-R-A-N-D-M-A!” she jokingly wailed for about two seconds. My parents might be grandparents for the first time but Caleb’s parents were old pros—they were Granny & Papa to their five stairstep grandchildren. But they were excited, just the same. Caleb’s dad told him, “Better have a boy, son. You’re gonna need help on that farm.” We fell into bed that night ecstatic over the change which was about to come into our lives as if we hadn’t had enough already. But...a BABY!
Reality hit the next morning as I ran to the bathroom. I’d felt queasy for a week which explained not eating Brau Chips. But this was more than queasy. Caleb brought me crackers and a Sprite before he left for work. He kissed me on the forehead and said, “A baby, Merry Noelle! Just keep reminding yourself.” He winked and walked out the door and into the snow on his way to the church.
Speaking of the church, a lot had changed. A young man and his wife from our church, Jason & Jennifer Wilson, had stepped up and started helping with our youth. The youth loved them. Jason confided to Caleb that God was calling him into the ministry. Caleb’s mind began to work overtime. He saw this as an answer to his prayers. So Caleb approached the personnel committee with an idea. He asked them, “What if we hired Jason as a bi-vocational youth minister? We could let the Wilsons live in the parsonage and give him a small salary. And then we could share hospital visitation and other responsibilities. What do you think?” Because most of them were farmers themselves and knew Caleb was stretched thin, they saw wisdom in the idea and eventually offered Jason the job. We all felt it was a win/win and Caleb’s mind was greatly relieved.
Caleb came home a few evenings later, and I was still in bed. It was as if the floodgates had opened once I announced that I was pregnant. I couldn’t keep anything down. Even though several sweet ladies from our church had brought food along with their “how-to-avoid-nausea” advice—we were now short in the food supply department. I told Caleb, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to get groceries and fix your own dinner—or better yet, go to the DQ for a burger. I don’t think I can even handle the smells!” We had no idea at the time...but this was about to become our way of life for the next three months. One night when he came home, I was crying and whined, “I’m so hungry!! Nothing is staying down. Would you make a stew? It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day and I think I could eat it.” Sweet Caleb spent thirty minutes chopping vegetables and putting a stew together. After it cooked for about forty minutes, the smell was beginning to make me nauseous. He brought a bowl to me and sat down and said, “Here, Merry. Some of the vegetables may still be a little crunchy, but I think it’s ready.” I took one bite and pushed Caleb out of the way as I ran to the bathroom. Obviously, just thinking about stew all day didn’t mean I could eat it. Crying, I told Caleb, “Open the windows!! I can’t stand the smell!” I heard him muttering, “Make stew. Get rid of the stew smell...” Miserable, I pulled the pillow over my head and cried myself to sleep.
And then, just like that, I woke up one morning and wasn’t sick! I moved slowly just in case it was a fluke. Before I got dressed, I looked in the mirror and pulled my nightgown tightly around my belly and could see a tiny little pooch and fell in love all over again. I thought, “I’m really pregnant!” as if being sick for three months hadn’t proven that fact. Caleb walked in from feeding cattle, wet and dirty from chopping ice in the creek, to a wife who was up, dressed, and even had on make-up. And I told him, “Hurry up and shower! We’re going to Hoffbrau tonight and I’m eating Brau Chips. Our baby is hungry!” Caleb laughed...but I noticed he didn’t waste any time getting in the shower. I knew a secret: steaks were his love language.
No comments:
Post a Comment