Dear Baby,
When are you planning to arrive? Details on the exact moment in time would be much appreciated.
Also, are you a boy or a girl? I am about to explode from the anticipation. And also from the tacos I ate at lunch today. You don’t seem to like them much either. Sorry about that.
Oh. Also?
I can’t wait to meet you.
Get here soon, okay?
Love,
Mommy
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It’s probably just a fluke. Or a response to the fact that I’m reading Small Fry a book or singing her to sleep. But whenever we lie down together and snuggle up, the baby starts wiggling like crazy.
Usually Small Fry has her little legs tucked up against my belly, and when she feels those movements, she always shrieks with joy, yanks up my shirt and scooches down to put her hand on my belly.
It’s awesome. And I’m going to miss it.
I always tell Small Fry, “baby knows you’re nearby and loves you so much,” which delights her. She’s been talking to my belly for quite a while, and this little bedtime ritual seems to be creating a bond between the two.
Two. Two kids.
I cannot wait for them to meet.
{ 20 comments }
I took a darkroom photography class a few years ago, before becoming a mother, and I had an awesome teacher. Inked on her forearm was the word try. With a period. Which I think adds loads of meaning.
It was a dark time in my life, and being in the dark (ha) was a wonderful escape. To this day, I can’t get over how those images just appeared on the paper underneath their chemical bath. So beautiful.
And I’ve never stopped thinking about “try.”
Especially now.
Because “try.” will be the one thing I know with absolute certainty that I’ll do once this baby arrives.
breastfeed.
sleep.
remain calm.
Those are just three of the multitude of unknowns for me right now.
My life is about to turn upside-down again.
But I will try. Period.
{ 9 comments }
You guys. We’re in the home stretch.
I say “we” because I feel like you all are walking right alongside me in this journey. You’ve tolerated endless stories of how sick I’ve been since the moment I saw the plus sign on the stick. You’ve encouraged me through self-doubt posts. And cheered along with me in my “I can beat PPD again” posts.
Thank you for all of your support and kindness. And thanks for sticking around.
I’m technically full-term in just a few days. HOLY CRAP.
Besides a delightful stomach bug that leveled me, I’ve felt nothing different than the status quo of the past 36 weeks: queasy, dizzy, craving fried chicken. At last check, my cervix is thinning but has not started to dilate. For that information, you’re welcome.
And my brain? Is so full of stuff swimming around in every which direction I can hardly see straight. Thoughts of naming my child and vacuuming my house keep me up at night. Every night.
So (lucky you) it’s confession time. Because if I can’t blog about it, I might just explode.
Here they are:
- I packed my hospital bag. Just in case.
- I cried nonstop during an entire hour of Oprah.
- I’m starting to feel guilty over taking away Small Fry’s “only” status. Is she going to pull away from me? Hate me?
- Also, I’m going to miss our little threesome.
- How is it possible to love another child as much as I love Small Fry? I can’t wrap my brain around this one. But I’m confident that my heart will expand and surprise me.
- The nursery is still a pile of boxes and bags awaiting the yard sale. But there are diapers, clean clothes and a place for baby to sleep. So it’ll be okay. Tell me it’ll be okay.
- I’m sooooooo DONE with feeling sick.
- I can’t get enough fruit and orange juice and popsicles. Anything ice-cold, really.
- I had my first baby dream: it was a BOY with blonde hair and pink eyes. Weird.
- I can only sleep on my left side.
- I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs. (Sorry, Marc.)
- I’m afraid of labor. I’ve done this before, but dang, it sure did hurt.
- But I’m also more excited than I ever imagined I’d feel.
- I cannot wait to meet this baby.
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It’s the weirdest thing.
Most every time I catch my reflection, whether in a shop window or the very mirror in my own bedroom, the first thought that crosses my mind is: who is that pregnant woman?
You’d think with all of the sickness and the super-active baby (who holds hourly dance parties in my belly) and the raging hormones, it wouldn’t catch me off guard to see myself pregnant. This pregnant.
But it does. And it makes me smile every time.
I’m trying to savor these last few weeks. Because it really is amazing to have an almost-ready-for-the-world human being growing inside your body.
So. If you see a random pregnant lady on the sidewalk staring in bewilderment at her reflection, just keep walking.
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You. My sweet girl.
Sprawled on the floor, playing Lite Brite.
Running, jumping, squealing, digging in the dirt.
Carrying on secret conversations with Dora and Teddy.
Belly laughs, little arms wrapped around my neck, dirt under your fingernails. Wayward stickers dotting your clothes. Pockets full of rocks.
Your dad’s mouth and determination. My brown eyes and easy laugh.
Our first baby.
The embodiment of love. Faith.
Everything I need to know, to believe in, is standing right here in front of me.
I can do this again.
Because you are simply awesome.
{ 18 comments }
My newest obsession?
The nursery.
Purging the closet (which is stacked to the ceiling with perhaps every single photo I’ve ever taken), sorting bins of baby clothes, cleaning, making lists.
I can’t get enough!
But I still feel like I’m behind the game. At this point in my last pregnancy, a cute room was nearly ready for Small Fry. Granted, the crib arrived and was assembled just days before she was born, but everything else was set to go, staged like a catalog shoot. Diapers, wipes, butt cream, clean and folded clothes.
I just haven’t felt the same sense of urgency this time around. And, honestly, I’m glad about it. That first experience taught me SO many things, among them being the simple fact that newborn babies really don’t require that much “stuff.”
A place to sleep, milk, clean clothes, diapers, bath soap.
It’s kind of refreshing. But at the same time, I do want to be prepared. To have as little on my plate as possible after baby arrives.
Hence, the maniacal nesting.
Is it nuts that I’m actually having fun with this?
{ 9 comments }
Seeing this face Friday blew my mind. Our baby.
Sucking its lower lip, just like big sister did in the womb. Wiggling around, making it hard for us to get a good look. Responding to my laughter. And waving a little hand, as if to say hey mom I’m doing just fine in here.
It was awesome.
Eight weeks to go. And a new feeling for me, slicing its way through the fear: excitement.
I cannot wait to hold this child against my chest. To find out if “it” is a “he” or a “she.” To hear, smell, breathe in my baby.
Cannot wait.
{ 17 comments }
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