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where I will finally share with James that he is about to be a dad.
!!!
Since I found out about the pregnancy almost a week ago, I've been a rollercoaster of thoughts and needless to say, have been DYING to tell him. I'm the worst at keeping secrets and James can usually read me like a book so sufficed to say, it's been a lot of proactive signal throwing. From pretending that I got my period (and all that comes with that), to keeping conversations going as normal, to (the hardest one yet) going through with original plans for this trip.
This past weekend, James and I had planned on doing a 3 day mountain biking and camping tour on the White Rim Trail in Canyonlands. Leading up to it, I was already nervous about whether I would be able to manage biking 80 miles on a mountain bike because, well... I never mountain bike. I kept contemplating whether I should go through with this given the pregnancy and uncertainty of risk. I couldn't think of an excuse that would not raise a red flag and to be honest, I wanted this one last memory with him where we were able to do something adventurous before we become a family of 3.
The ride was definitely tough. From rocky and sandy terrain to long climbs, I definitely underestimated the physical demand of the ride. I kept comparing it to milage on a road bike and they are NOT the same.
But it was SO incredible. Beautiful. Almost surreal to be riding through such vast and grand canyons. I kept telling myself to take mental pictures and soak it in all while clutching the handle bars for dear life knowing that I have a little one growing inside me. I kept wavering between feelings of guilt - what if something were to happen, would I already have been a bad parent before I even became a parent? ... to feelings of empowerment where I would want my child to embrace moments exactly like this. I wanted to be a living example of what I hoped future baby Choi could experience.
There was a moment on the ride when I was reminded of a similar feeling I had while doing my first half Ironman in wine country. A moment where I was just overcome with awe and wonder - feeling so connected to Him in the the very heart of His creation. During my first half Ironman, I remember feeling so drawn to pray for my grandma (little to find out she passed while I was on the race). This time, I felt so drawn to pray for baby Choi and for the beautiful, healthy, legacy of a life I hoped he or she will have.
Throughout the whole ride, I contemplated giving up and just going in the support truck. In my mind, it was likely a wiser (potentially?) choice but I wanted to finish. I wanted me and the baby growing inside me to finish the journey and I prayed hard that we would be safe - even through the last stint of a rainstorm that came through as we trudged up the cliffside.
To say I'm nervous/anxious/worried to no end is an understatement.
With the world the way that it is - COVID, political divide, social isolation, and natural disasters - how can I possibly make sure that my child lives a wonderful life? How can I protect or even raise them to be someone of character who isn't inadvertently scarred in some way?
Even more immediately, the thought of missing firsts already saddens me.
Will my parents or parents-in-law even be able to be with me through the pregnancy?
Will James even be able to go with me to our first ultrasounds?
Will our baby even have a baby shower where we will feel reassured of the village that will surround us to love on baby Choi?
Will our baby even be able to be held and loved on by family and friends?
Will we even be able to build a community that is able to understand and walk through first time parenthood with us?
... the list goes on.
God, I'm scared.
... but those He calls, He empowers. And in that I will rest.
So as of tomorrow morning, James and I are in it together. He is going to be the BEST dad and I can't wait to walk through this journey with him.
Baby Choi, you are so loved. To the moon and back.