this week, my handy phone app tells me that you're the size of a crenshaw melon. I have no freakin' clue what a crenshaw melon is. Neither does your Dad, and he's a chef! Last week, you were comparable to a honeydew. That was easier to understand.
We're only 27 days away from your estimated due date, and I have to say -- I'm ready for you to come on out. This week, we've crossed into the phase of pregnancy that involves me being really uncomfortable pretty much all the time. I don't sleep well. I wake up and have to flip over once or twice in the night. I can't really bend over anymore. Standing up from sitting is pretty difficult and awkward. I've also started getting a lot of foot cramps and leg cramps -- weird, hip-level leg cramps. Now, I know, I have no room complaining about being uncomfortable. At least I get to move around in a virtually limitless space. You, on the other hand, are squeezed into a cramped little area with barely any room to move. It'll be better for both of us when you are born.
You had your THIRD party last week. My friends at Drinking Liberally gave us a baby shower, and you got some sweet loot. We are now only 3 diapers away from having all 24! You also got a fleecy Gamecocks outfit. We are an unaffiliated household in the great USC vs. Clemson war, but I guess your allegiance got decided for you. (However, you also have some bright orange diapers, so really, you could go either way).
Hmm... what else is new? I guess you should know that you are still wreaking havoc on my hormones. Emotionally, I am just a mess. I am alternately grumpy, snarky, weepy, maudlin... it's exhausting just keeping up with myself. I've never been exceptionally emotionally stable (to say the least), but this is a new level of volatility for me.
I've been packing up our hospital bag. Last night, I got a little misty-eyed because I washed some of your little clothes for the first time before I packed them. For some reason, it got me really sentimental to be packing up your things... like you're this little person, and you have your own stuff. So far, you've just hung out inside me, and we've shared "stuff." But in approximately 27 days, you'll be an independent little person, who needs more than my womb to keep you safe and warm and happy. You'll need little outfits, little blankets and socks and hats... you'll need your own little THINGS.
I am going to pack the very first toy I ever bought for you. It's a blue teddy bear I got at O.P. Taylor's on Main Street. I told you about all the initial freaking out I did when we found out we were pregnant. Well, that bear marks the moment when I began to move from petrified to excited. I was sitting at work one day, and I found myself thinking about you (not surprising, since that's all I've done since the day in May when we found out). I started to think about how totally awesome it was that you suddenly existed, where a few weeks before, you hadn't. I found myself picturing you, and slowly, you stopped being something that scared me and started to be something I loved. It was a wonderful revelation, and after that moment, I just wanted to give you things, to give you everything. I realized that there were going to be all kinds of things that we'd buy you before you showed up, but I wanted the first thing to be something simple, something soft and warm and comforting. So I went down to the toy store and picked out the bear.
It's blue, but I didn't know yet that you were a boy. I just really liked the blue bear, and I hoped you would too, no matter what sex you turned out to be. I want it to be the first present you get from your parents -- a sort of promise that, no matter how strange and scary it may be to be parents, we will always take care of you and give you what you need (no matter what it costs us).
On a lighter note, we toured the OB at the hospital, and I found out that you can play music in the labor rooms. As I announced to all my Facebook friends, I am trying to figure out how to time it so you are born to "Eye of the Tiger." I think that maybe your Dad thinks I'm kidding...
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
36 weeks, 2 days in the oven
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Dear Toot,
you are officially the size of a cantaloupe! (Last week, you were a pineapple. Sorry I missed it. We were busy with Thanksgiving cooking and travelling).
Everything is going well. We had a doctor visit last Friday, and you are still right on track. I didn't much care for the doctor we saw, though, so if you could try not to show up when she's on rotation, I'd appreciate it. We'd really rather you came when either Dr. Gower or Dr. Price was on rotation, if it's not too much trouble.
I got a little stressed out this week. We thought we'd finished paying what we owed for your delivery, but apparently, it was just the OB-GYN portion. We got a letter from the hospital with an estimate of what we will have to pay them. It's astonishing how expensive it is to have a baby, even if you have decent insurance!
Now, don't get me wrong, buddy. We don't begrudge you a penny of the money it will cost to get you into this world. We can afford it, and once we see you, we won't have a thought for anything at all except how totally rad you are. But it really upsets me. You see, there are countries in this world where families don't have to pay doctor bills at all. They can just focus all their energy on being joyful and getting ready to welcome their little people into life. Here, though, it really can be a financial burden for some folks. I couldn't help thinking about all those poor families who DON'T have the money for those gigantic hospital bills -- those families who fall into that uncomfortable range between being able to afford good insurance and qualifying for assistance. It's a travesty that any family should have to worry about money in such a beautiful, exciting time. This is part of why your mother votes the way she does, and it's why I get so worked up about politics. I want the world to be a better place for you (and for me!) I don't want you to have to worry about how to provide the basics of life for your family. I think certain things like housing, food, and healthcare are human rights, not privileges that have to be earned.
But, as far as these doctor bills go, there's really nothing to be done about it. They are realities of life in this country right now, so of course, we will take care of them. Instead of worrying about it anymore, I went out and bought a toy for our office's Toys for Tots drive. I figured, since we DO have the money to pay the bills, I should focus my energy on all the less fortunate little babies who won't be as spoiled as you are guaranteed to be (just ask your grandparents). Really, the gift was from you too, so if you're curious, it was a game - Apples to Apples, Jr. I've never played the junior version, but the grownup version is one of my favorites, and I hope you will play it with me and your father someday.
I just realized today that I only have 15 more days of work until my leave starts! It's getting so close. You are due for a landing 5 weeks from tomorrow. We can't wait to meet you. You are getting the hiccups a lot lately. It's pretty amusing.
Love,
Mom
34 weeks, 7 days in the oven
Everything is going well. We had a doctor visit last Friday, and you are still right on track. I didn't much care for the doctor we saw, though, so if you could try not to show up when she's on rotation, I'd appreciate it. We'd really rather you came when either Dr. Gower or Dr. Price was on rotation, if it's not too much trouble.
I got a little stressed out this week. We thought we'd finished paying what we owed for your delivery, but apparently, it was just the OB-GYN portion. We got a letter from the hospital with an estimate of what we will have to pay them. It's astonishing how expensive it is to have a baby, even if you have decent insurance!
Now, don't get me wrong, buddy. We don't begrudge you a penny of the money it will cost to get you into this world. We can afford it, and once we see you, we won't have a thought for anything at all except how totally rad you are. But it really upsets me. You see, there are countries in this world where families don't have to pay doctor bills at all. They can just focus all their energy on being joyful and getting ready to welcome their little people into life. Here, though, it really can be a financial burden for some folks. I couldn't help thinking about all those poor families who DON'T have the money for those gigantic hospital bills -- those families who fall into that uncomfortable range between being able to afford good insurance and qualifying for assistance. It's a travesty that any family should have to worry about money in such a beautiful, exciting time. This is part of why your mother votes the way she does, and it's why I get so worked up about politics. I want the world to be a better place for you (and for me!) I don't want you to have to worry about how to provide the basics of life for your family. I think certain things like housing, food, and healthcare are human rights, not privileges that have to be earned.
But, as far as these doctor bills go, there's really nothing to be done about it. They are realities of life in this country right now, so of course, we will take care of them. Instead of worrying about it anymore, I went out and bought a toy for our office's Toys for Tots drive. I figured, since we DO have the money to pay the bills, I should focus my energy on all the less fortunate little babies who won't be as spoiled as you are guaranteed to be (just ask your grandparents). Really, the gift was from you too, so if you're curious, it was a game - Apples to Apples, Jr. I've never played the junior version, but the grownup version is one of my favorites, and I hope you will play it with me and your father someday.
I just realized today that I only have 15 more days of work until my leave starts! It's getting so close. You are due for a landing 5 weeks from tomorrow. We can't wait to meet you. You are getting the hiccups a lot lately. It's pretty amusing.
Love,
Mom
34 weeks, 7 days in the oven
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Dear Toot,
you are now the size of a large jicama (???) Sorry. I wish I had a better visual for you. Good news, though! Dr. Gower says that, at least as of Thursday, your head is pointing down! I really want to do this naturally, and I'm glad you seem to be on board.
I have a confession, Toot. I know I have sort of romanticized this pregnancy in my letters to you, but I need to be honest.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was FREAKED OUT - not because we didn't want you, not because we weren't actively TRYING to have you. We did, and we were. But I was freaked out anyway.
See, I had been worried for some time that it would be really hard and take a really long time for us to have a baby. It took my Mom a long time, and my own body has never been especially cooperative or predictable in that department. So I was convinced that we would struggle. I told your father that I thought we should go ahead and at least stop trying to NOT get pregnant because, in my words, "it's not going to happen overnight."
I was right. It took us two whole months.
And I freaked out.
I thought we had at least a year before we had to think about any of those scary, grownup, parent-y things. I figured it might even be several years because I read that it takes the average couple a year, and I was expecting us to be even slower than average.
But you had other plans. Apparently, you were just itching to exist. Your soul was just hanging around, tapping its foot, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. I imagine this is just the first of many, many times that you will surprise us and make us find new (more awesome) plans.
Anyway... I guess what I am saying is that this is why we aren't quite where we thought we'd be when you got here. We don't own a home yet, and we still have a lot of dreams that we haven't started pursuing. We wanted everything to be perfect for you, and the truth is - it isn't.
It's clear to me that you are already a lot smarter than your parents. If we had waited until we felt "ready," you might never have gotten here! And we are so, so happy that you are on your way. You are such an inspiration, little guy. I have spent a lot of my life being moody and ultra-introspective and a little cynical at times. Now, though, I can feel myself changing just from the thought of you, from the dream and promise of you. I don't want your life to have my sometimes-dark shadow hanging over it. I don't want your idea of adulthood to be all about resignation and sullenness and gloom. I want you to look around (and at me) and see joy and hope and neverending possibility.
Undeniably, you are changing my body, but it is becoming clear to me that you are already changing my heart as well. As much as your little body is rounding out my belly, your little (little?) spirit is swelling my soul. That's not something they mentioned in "What To Expect..." You are full of wonderful surprises.
In other news, three different people this week have pointed out that I waddle. It appears to be official.
Love,
Mom
32 weeks, 2 days in the oven
I have a confession, Toot. I know I have sort of romanticized this pregnancy in my letters to you, but I need to be honest.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was FREAKED OUT - not because we didn't want you, not because we weren't actively TRYING to have you. We did, and we were. But I was freaked out anyway.
See, I had been worried for some time that it would be really hard and take a really long time for us to have a baby. It took my Mom a long time, and my own body has never been especially cooperative or predictable in that department. So I was convinced that we would struggle. I told your father that I thought we should go ahead and at least stop trying to NOT get pregnant because, in my words, "it's not going to happen overnight."
I was right. It took us two whole months.
And I freaked out.
I thought we had at least a year before we had to think about any of those scary, grownup, parent-y things. I figured it might even be several years because I read that it takes the average couple a year, and I was expecting us to be even slower than average.
But you had other plans. Apparently, you were just itching to exist. Your soul was just hanging around, tapping its foot, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. I imagine this is just the first of many, many times that you will surprise us and make us find new (more awesome) plans.
Anyway... I guess what I am saying is that this is why we aren't quite where we thought we'd be when you got here. We don't own a home yet, and we still have a lot of dreams that we haven't started pursuing. We wanted everything to be perfect for you, and the truth is - it isn't.
It's clear to me that you are already a lot smarter than your parents. If we had waited until we felt "ready," you might never have gotten here! And we are so, so happy that you are on your way. You are such an inspiration, little guy. I have spent a lot of my life being moody and ultra-introspective and a little cynical at times. Now, though, I can feel myself changing just from the thought of you, from the dream and promise of you. I don't want your life to have my sometimes-dark shadow hanging over it. I don't want your idea of adulthood to be all about resignation and sullenness and gloom. I want you to look around (and at me) and see joy and hope and neverending possibility.
Undeniably, you are changing my body, but it is becoming clear to me that you are already changing my heart as well. As much as your little body is rounding out my belly, your little (little?) spirit is swelling my soul. That's not something they mentioned in "What To Expect..." You are full of wonderful surprises.
In other news, three different people this week have pointed out that I waddle. It appears to be official.
Love,
Mom
32 weeks, 2 days in the oven
Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Dear Toot,
As of today, you are the approximate size of "four navel oranges." I think the makers of the BabyBump app are really stretching it. I didn't write you during the past couple of weeks, so you missed the butternut squash and cabbage phases. I'm sorry I have neglected our correspondence, but we have had a lot to do.
We've got less than two months before Space Shuttle Alex is scheduled for landing. Scary! But we are making a lot of progress with the preparations. We have your bassinet, two car seats, a pack and play, lots of clothes, and 14/24 of your diapers. There are still quite a few little things we have to pick up, but we're getting there.
You had a pretty cool weekend. Grandma Garrrett's sister (Aunt Mako) is in town, so on Saturday, your Dad cooked breakfast for all of us. Then, you and I went to my friend Christie's house to watch "Twilight." (I don't want to hear a word. As long as you're a tenant in my womb, you will be subjected to my cheesy vampire romance movies). Sunday, we went hiking at Chimney Rock. You did great on your first hike, although your Dad was the only one who went up to the top of the chimney. The elevator was broken, and after about 3 flights of stairs, I gave up. When we got home, we ate sukiyaki! You will love it when you are old enough to taste it with your own mouth.
I had this weird revelation... it hit me that you are never going to see me the way I see myself. In my head, I will always be young and moderately cool. I will always be green-haired and nose-pierced. I will always be a poet and a wanderer. I will always be the sort of person who drives around all night aimlessly or takes off for the beach at midnight, on a whim. But you will only see me as I am now. I will be your archetype for "adult." I find this a little bizarre, but it's sort of liberating too. You and I have never really met, so, while you don't know all the neat things about me, you don't know the bad ones either. We get to start over fresh, with a clean slate. I think we will have fun with that.
I can't wait to meet you. Not long now!
Love,
Mom
31 weeks, 2 days in the oven
We've got less than two months before Space Shuttle Alex is scheduled for landing. Scary! But we are making a lot of progress with the preparations. We have your bassinet, two car seats, a pack and play, lots of clothes, and 14/24 of your diapers. There are still quite a few little things we have to pick up, but we're getting there.
You had a pretty cool weekend. Grandma Garrrett's sister (Aunt Mako) is in town, so on Saturday, your Dad cooked breakfast for all of us. Then, you and I went to my friend Christie's house to watch "Twilight." (I don't want to hear a word. As long as you're a tenant in my womb, you will be subjected to my cheesy vampire romance movies). Sunday, we went hiking at Chimney Rock. You did great on your first hike, although your Dad was the only one who went up to the top of the chimney. The elevator was broken, and after about 3 flights of stairs, I gave up. When we got home, we ate sukiyaki! You will love it when you are old enough to taste it with your own mouth.
I had this weird revelation... it hit me that you are never going to see me the way I see myself. In my head, I will always be young and moderately cool. I will always be green-haired and nose-pierced. I will always be a poet and a wanderer. I will always be the sort of person who drives around all night aimlessly or takes off for the beach at midnight, on a whim. But you will only see me as I am now. I will be your archetype for "adult." I find this a little bizarre, but it's sort of liberating too. You and I have never really met, so, while you don't know all the neat things about me, you don't know the bad ones either. We get to start over fresh, with a clean slate. I think we will have fun with that.
I can't wait to meet you. Not long now!
Love,
Mom
31 weeks, 2 days in the oven
Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dear Toot,
supposedly, you are the size of a Chinese cabbage this week. I imagine we're not talking about the freakishly large ones your father and I bought when I made kimchi. Those were gigantic, mutant napa cabbages. I don't think I could have fit one of those inside my uterus.
We are now officially into the third trimester! I'm excited to be here, but it's also a little scary. There's still so much we have to do.
You had your very first party on Saturday. I know you won't remember it, but a lot of your parents' friends came to visit and brought gifts to help you get ready for full-fledged personhood. Your baby book has a complete list of guests and gifts, so I won't recount it here. I will, however, let you know that your wardrobe is now at least three times cooler than either mine or your father's. You have so many clothes that I know you'll never get to wear them all before you grow out of them. We will have to spend days dressing you up, taking a picture, then changing your clothes and repeating the process. (I have no problem with this. I am sure you will be very cute and will need lots of photo evidence).
It's amazing how much one's life can change in a year. Last October, I was getting ready to run my first half-marathon. This year, I am getting ready for you! I haven't run in quite some time. I didn't have any energy for the first few months, and once my energy came back, I didn't feel up to starting back, virtually from scratch. So I am going to wait until you show up before I get back on the road/trail. Hopefully, once you are big enough for a jogging stroller, you will enjoy it too. There are some great places to run in Greenville.
Your Dad and I went downtown to a big festival this weekend, and you got to try a lot of new foods. You were pretty excited about a German dish called Maultaschen (filled pasta). You also liked the shrimp and grits, but that's no surprise. If all that palate-preparation stuff is true, you will be well primed to enjoy shrimp and grits.
I don't have much else new to report, except this. When I went to my last doctor's appointment, Dr. Gower was listening to your heartbeat, and he said, "Wow. That's a laid back baby!" You have no idea how excited this makes me. I try really, really hard to be a cool, chilled out, calm, peaceful love child. But the truth is, I'm usually pretty far from laid back. I've made a lot of progress, but I still get a bit anxious about things. Yesterday, for example, I was really comfortable on the couch, watching a great TV show. But I had this little nagging voice in the back of my head that kept reminding me how messy and untucked the couch cover was. I had to fight the urge to get up and fix it, so I could relax.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a really happy person most of the time. I love most parts of my life (especially you and your Dad and all the aunts and uncles you're about to meet). I do wish, though, that I were better at cultivating this "laid back" attitude which you have apparently developed. I'm practicing, but I'm relieved to hear that you come by it naturally. Clearly, you got this from your Dad.
We are really looking forward to meeting you!
Love,
Mom
28 weeks, 2 days in the oven
We are now officially into the third trimester! I'm excited to be here, but it's also a little scary. There's still so much we have to do.
You had your very first party on Saturday. I know you won't remember it, but a lot of your parents' friends came to visit and brought gifts to help you get ready for full-fledged personhood. Your baby book has a complete list of guests and gifts, so I won't recount it here. I will, however, let you know that your wardrobe is now at least three times cooler than either mine or your father's. You have so many clothes that I know you'll never get to wear them all before you grow out of them. We will have to spend days dressing you up, taking a picture, then changing your clothes and repeating the process. (I have no problem with this. I am sure you will be very cute and will need lots of photo evidence).
It's amazing how much one's life can change in a year. Last October, I was getting ready to run my first half-marathon. This year, I am getting ready for you! I haven't run in quite some time. I didn't have any energy for the first few months, and once my energy came back, I didn't feel up to starting back, virtually from scratch. So I am going to wait until you show up before I get back on the road/trail. Hopefully, once you are big enough for a jogging stroller, you will enjoy it too. There are some great places to run in Greenville.
Your Dad and I went downtown to a big festival this weekend, and you got to try a lot of new foods. You were pretty excited about a German dish called Maultaschen (filled pasta). You also liked the shrimp and grits, but that's no surprise. If all that palate-preparation stuff is true, you will be well primed to enjoy shrimp and grits.
I don't have much else new to report, except this. When I went to my last doctor's appointment, Dr. Gower was listening to your heartbeat, and he said, "Wow. That's a laid back baby!" You have no idea how excited this makes me. I try really, really hard to be a cool, chilled out, calm, peaceful love child. But the truth is, I'm usually pretty far from laid back. I've made a lot of progress, but I still get a bit anxious about things. Yesterday, for example, I was really comfortable on the couch, watching a great TV show. But I had this little nagging voice in the back of my head that kept reminding me how messy and untucked the couch cover was. I had to fight the urge to get up and fix it, so I could relax.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a really happy person most of the time. I love most parts of my life (especially you and your Dad and all the aunts and uncles you're about to meet). I do wish, though, that I were better at cultivating this "laid back" attitude which you have apparently developed. I'm practicing, but I'm relieved to hear that you come by it naturally. Clearly, you got this from your Dad.
We are really looking forward to meeting you!
Love,
Mom
28 weeks, 2 days in the oven
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Dear Toot,
today, my phone tells me that you are the size of a cauliflower. Last week, you were evidently the size of a "hothouse cucumber." I'm getting a little fed up with these comparisons. Why can't they use something less variable than fruits and vegetables? When you were blueberry-sized, it was a helpful comparison, but I just cannot visualize a "hothouse cucumber." Grr...
I'm happy to say that you're at a point where I feel you moving around every day. I really enjoy this part of being pregnant. It's so reassuring to feel you wiggling around, doing your little fetus things in there. The other day, you hit me so hard that it sort of tickled my muscles. I've never been tickled from the inside before, so thanks for that. Your Dad got a big kick out of it. You move around a lot when I eat fresh carrots. As a result, I find myself eating a ton of carrots. If you come out orange, now you know why.
Don't tell him I told you, but the other night, your Dad felt his first BIG kick, and he cried a little. He would insist that "teared up" is the more accurate phrase, but I saw him wipe his eyes, so some of those tears that welled up CLEARLY made their way out. It was really very sweet. He loves you a lot.
It sounds weird, but I think I am going to miss it when I can't feel you moving anymore, after you make your big journey into the real, non-uterine world. I know that we'll be able to have a lot more fun together once you're born, but it will be different. I feel like this is our special Mommy/Little Buddy time, and I'll be sad to see it go. But I know your Dad feels a little left out, so it'll be great when he can play with you too (and tickle your feet and poke your belly -- you were warned!)
We went to a family reunion on Sunday. Everybody asked about you, and they even gave you some presents! So now, you have some books, a set of really awesome eating utensils that are made from cornstarch, a storage bin with owls on it, a baby book for all our memories, two more cloth diapers and a diaper sprayer! It was really awesome. You'll get to meet everybody next year, and you can thank them then.
I'm going to sign off now because it's almost time for me to go to my weekly trivia game. Wish us luck. We won last week, and it would be great to repeat the performance.
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
27 weeks, 1 day in the oven
I'm happy to say that you're at a point where I feel you moving around every day. I really enjoy this part of being pregnant. It's so reassuring to feel you wiggling around, doing your little fetus things in there. The other day, you hit me so hard that it sort of tickled my muscles. I've never been tickled from the inside before, so thanks for that. Your Dad got a big kick out of it. You move around a lot when I eat fresh carrots. As a result, I find myself eating a ton of carrots. If you come out orange, now you know why.
Don't tell him I told you, but the other night, your Dad felt his first BIG kick, and he cried a little. He would insist that "teared up" is the more accurate phrase, but I saw him wipe his eyes, so some of those tears that welled up CLEARLY made their way out. It was really very sweet. He loves you a lot.
It sounds weird, but I think I am going to miss it when I can't feel you moving anymore, after you make your big journey into the real, non-uterine world. I know that we'll be able to have a lot more fun together once you're born, but it will be different. I feel like this is our special Mommy/Little Buddy time, and I'll be sad to see it go. But I know your Dad feels a little left out, so it'll be great when he can play with you too (and tickle your feet and poke your belly -- you were warned!)
We went to a family reunion on Sunday. Everybody asked about you, and they even gave you some presents! So now, you have some books, a set of really awesome eating utensils that are made from cornstarch, a storage bin with owls on it, a baby book for all our memories, two more cloth diapers and a diaper sprayer! It was really awesome. You'll get to meet everybody next year, and you can thank them then.
I'm going to sign off now because it's almost time for me to go to my weekly trivia game. Wish us luck. We won last week, and it would be great to repeat the performance.
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
27 weeks, 1 day in the oven
Monday, October 3, 2011
Dear Toot,
you are apparently the size of a rutabaga! I don't much care for rutabagas, but I like you a good deal.
You have been wreaking a bit of havoc on my emotions lately. I found myself crying in front of my boss's boss last week. It was really mortifying, but I hope everybody just blames the hormones. You have also made me incredibly clumsy. In a single 24-hour span, I dropped the following delicious food items on the floor:
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich
A chicken and egg biscuit
A piece of carrot cake
I won't lie to you, Toot. I ate the sandwich and the biscuit anyway. The only reason I didn't rescue the cake was that it fell icing-side down. Also, after I dropped the cake, I ate your Dad's piece.
The closer we get to your ETA, the more I realize that I am starting to get a little nervous about the prospect of actually giving birth. It's important to me to try to do it without pain medications or an epidural or anything. I make no judgment about ladies who want help with the pain. I just want to try it old school. But it's pretty scary. Don't worry, though. We'll figure it out together.
Along those lines, your Dad and I were writing out our "birth plan," and we had to make a decision that I know will affect your life. We had to decide whether to circumcise you or not. Circumcision is pretty common in the U.S., so it may surprise you that we decided not to have it done to you. I hope this is the right decision. I am aware that it may lead to some uncomfortable moments, since you will look different from a lot of your American friends. But the truth is, in my heart of hearts, I think it's weird to cut pieces off your baby. So that's why you aren't having it done as an infant. If it causes you a lot of angst later, I really am sorry... But I think that it should be your decision, when you are old enough to make it.
Meh, by the time you read this, you will probably be more concerned with the fact that your mother was posting things online about your "junk." I love you and can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
25 weeks, 7 days in the oven
You have been wreaking a bit of havoc on my emotions lately. I found myself crying in front of my boss's boss last week. It was really mortifying, but I hope everybody just blames the hormones. You have also made me incredibly clumsy. In a single 24-hour span, I dropped the following delicious food items on the floor:
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich
A chicken and egg biscuit
A piece of carrot cake
I won't lie to you, Toot. I ate the sandwich and the biscuit anyway. The only reason I didn't rescue the cake was that it fell icing-side down. Also, after I dropped the cake, I ate your Dad's piece.
The closer we get to your ETA, the more I realize that I am starting to get a little nervous about the prospect of actually giving birth. It's important to me to try to do it without pain medications or an epidural or anything. I make no judgment about ladies who want help with the pain. I just want to try it old school. But it's pretty scary. Don't worry, though. We'll figure it out together.
Along those lines, your Dad and I were writing out our "birth plan," and we had to make a decision that I know will affect your life. We had to decide whether to circumcise you or not. Circumcision is pretty common in the U.S., so it may surprise you that we decided not to have it done to you. I hope this is the right decision. I am aware that it may lead to some uncomfortable moments, since you will look different from a lot of your American friends. But the truth is, in my heart of hearts, I think it's weird to cut pieces off your baby. So that's why you aren't having it done as an infant. If it causes you a lot of angst later, I really am sorry... But I think that it should be your decision, when you are old enough to make it.
Meh, by the time you read this, you will probably be more concerned with the fact that your mother was posting things online about your "junk." I love you and can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
25 weeks, 7 days in the oven
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Dear Toot,
I'm sorry I haven't written in a few days. Your Dad and I went on a little vacation - sort of our last hurrah before you show up and everything changes (for the better!) If you're wondering, you are evidently the size (or length) of an ear of corn. Watch out that your Aunt Lexie doesn't eat you.
We went down to Charleston, and we had a lovely time. We stayed at a great B&B, we went on a really cheesy/crappy ghost tour, we toured a tea plantation and a vodka distillery, and we ate a lot of really good food. That last part is the one that concerns you.
I have noticed that you're pretty active AFTER I eat, but our Charleston trip was the first time I felt you moving WHILE I was eating. I hope your wiggliness was an indication that you enjoyed what I was feeding you. The first time I felt it was at a Japanese place called O-Ku, where we had some of the best sushi ever. They had real wasabi there! We had been wanting to try it for years, so of course, we got some. Anyway, you started kicking me while I ate mine. You also kicked me during our early anniversary dinner at a place called Circa 1886. I had a great sea bass dish, but I hope your kicks were a reaction to your Dad's food (which I tried). He got a pork chop that had been brined in Firefly sweet tea vodka. Oh, my, it was good. You seem to be developing a great taste in food. (You also like Trader Joe's pumpkin ice cream. That quart is only designed to last 4 days, right?)
They say it's important to eat a variety of foods while you're pregnant and when you're breastfeeding. Evidently, this will help the baby (that's you) develop his palate. I can safely say that, if this is accurate, you should be primed to eat a nice wide variety of different foods. Your Dad and I are total omnivores. We don't just eat ANYTHING. We eat EVERYTHING.
Things seem to be going well. The doctor says you're just the size you should be, and everything looks good. I wish you could see how excited your Dad is when he gets to feel you move. It kills me that you'll never get to see that part. He has all kinds of plans for the things he wants to teach you how to do when you are older. We can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
24 weeks, 3 days in the oven
We went down to Charleston, and we had a lovely time. We stayed at a great B&B, we went on a really cheesy/crappy ghost tour, we toured a tea plantation and a vodka distillery, and we ate a lot of really good food. That last part is the one that concerns you.
I have noticed that you're pretty active AFTER I eat, but our Charleston trip was the first time I felt you moving WHILE I was eating. I hope your wiggliness was an indication that you enjoyed what I was feeding you. The first time I felt it was at a Japanese place called O-Ku, where we had some of the best sushi ever. They had real wasabi there! We had been wanting to try it for years, so of course, we got some. Anyway, you started kicking me while I ate mine. You also kicked me during our early anniversary dinner at a place called Circa 1886. I had a great sea bass dish, but I hope your kicks were a reaction to your Dad's food (which I tried). He got a pork chop that had been brined in Firefly sweet tea vodka. Oh, my, it was good. You seem to be developing a great taste in food. (You also like Trader Joe's pumpkin ice cream. That quart is only designed to last 4 days, right?)
They say it's important to eat a variety of foods while you're pregnant and when you're breastfeeding. Evidently, this will help the baby (that's you) develop his palate. I can safely say that, if this is accurate, you should be primed to eat a nice wide variety of different foods. Your Dad and I are total omnivores. We don't just eat ANYTHING. We eat EVERYTHING.
Things seem to be going well. The doctor says you're just the size you should be, and everything looks good. I wish you could see how excited your Dad is when he gets to feel you move. It kills me that you'll never get to see that part. He has all kinds of plans for the things he wants to teach you how to do when you are older. We can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
24 weeks, 3 days in the oven
Monday, September 5, 2011
Dear Toot,
You're still a banana, but tomorrow, there is a very exciting bit of produce on the way.
I want to talk to you about something important today. I have been hesitant to bring up this subject, but I think it's a conversation we need to begin. There is going to come a time when you will be compelled to ask me about God.
It's a tricky subject. Your father and I both grew up in ostensibly Christian homes, but we have sort of drifted in our own directions. I have recently been going to an Episcopal church that I like a lot, and your father isn't into organized religion at all. For him, the universe makes sense on a more mathematical level than on a necessarily supernatural one. As if this weren't enough, by the time you read this, you will probably have made some friends who are Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist, or some faith I know even less about. You're probably wondering what to make of all of this. I don't blame you a bit. You have to be asking yourself - with so many different answers, which one is right?
Well, Toot, this will probably get me some flak, but I am just going to say it. I do not believe that there is only one path to God. A lot of people will disagree with me on this point, but I have to believe that if God is infinite (and, by definition, how could he not be?), then it seems silly to suggest that there is only one right way to get there. If God is everywhere, then it seems to me that every path must eventually reach him, however much it may meander on the journey. The important thing is just finding a path that makes sense to you.
I'm sorry because I know that this will confuse you for a while. It would be easier for you if I could say, "this way is the right one, and everything else is wrong," but I just can't. I have struggled with this a lot because, in all honesty, it may be more difficult to raise you this way than if we had a rigid doctrine to rely on. But the truth is that I am less concerned with making sure you adopt a particular set of rituals than I am with helping you understand the ideas at the heart of all the major religious traditions. My prayer for you is that you learn...
... to respect the magic and mystery of life, and to view all life forms with awe and reverence.
... to approach the world around you with humility and gratitude, and to use it gently.
... to avoid judging others, and to try always to see things from their perspective.
... to be generous to those less fortunate, and to know that it is only luck that keeps you from being in their circumstances.
... to value justice, but to value mercy and compassion more.
... to understand, somehow, that you are both a tiny, barely significant speck in the universe and the most important thing in it.
What's funny is that you may never have these huge spiritual questions that I am so worried about how to answer. Your father has a very calm, contented soul. He doesn't feel driven by all the vast, cosmic questions that burn in me. It's entirely possible that you will turn out just like him. If you do, you will probably be happier. But there's something to be said for the other route too...
Frankly, this whole pregnancy thing is the closest thing to a religious experience that I have ever had, and you are the biggest, most intriguing mystery that I can imagine. I can't wait to see who you become.
Love,
Mom
21 weeks, 7 days in the oven
I want to talk to you about something important today. I have been hesitant to bring up this subject, but I think it's a conversation we need to begin. There is going to come a time when you will be compelled to ask me about God.
It's a tricky subject. Your father and I both grew up in ostensibly Christian homes, but we have sort of drifted in our own directions. I have recently been going to an Episcopal church that I like a lot, and your father isn't into organized religion at all. For him, the universe makes sense on a more mathematical level than on a necessarily supernatural one. As if this weren't enough, by the time you read this, you will probably have made some friends who are Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist, or some faith I know even less about. You're probably wondering what to make of all of this. I don't blame you a bit. You have to be asking yourself - with so many different answers, which one is right?
Well, Toot, this will probably get me some flak, but I am just going to say it. I do not believe that there is only one path to God. A lot of people will disagree with me on this point, but I have to believe that if God is infinite (and, by definition, how could he not be?), then it seems silly to suggest that there is only one right way to get there. If God is everywhere, then it seems to me that every path must eventually reach him, however much it may meander on the journey. The important thing is just finding a path that makes sense to you.
I'm sorry because I know that this will confuse you for a while. It would be easier for you if I could say, "this way is the right one, and everything else is wrong," but I just can't. I have struggled with this a lot because, in all honesty, it may be more difficult to raise you this way than if we had a rigid doctrine to rely on. But the truth is that I am less concerned with making sure you adopt a particular set of rituals than I am with helping you understand the ideas at the heart of all the major religious traditions. My prayer for you is that you learn...
... to respect the magic and mystery of life, and to view all life forms with awe and reverence.
... to approach the world around you with humility and gratitude, and to use it gently.
... to avoid judging others, and to try always to see things from their perspective.
... to be generous to those less fortunate, and to know that it is only luck that keeps you from being in their circumstances.
... to value justice, but to value mercy and compassion more.
... to understand, somehow, that you are both a tiny, barely significant speck in the universe and the most important thing in it.
What's funny is that you may never have these huge spiritual questions that I am so worried about how to answer. Your father has a very calm, contented soul. He doesn't feel driven by all the vast, cosmic questions that burn in me. It's entirely possible that you will turn out just like him. If you do, you will probably be happier. But there's something to be said for the other route too...
Frankly, this whole pregnancy thing is the closest thing to a religious experience that I have ever had, and you are the biggest, most intriguing mystery that I can imagine. I can't wait to see who you become.
Love,
Mom
21 weeks, 7 days in the oven
Friday, September 2, 2011
Dear Toot,
it occurs to me this week that I should thank you.
You see, your mother has always been a little bit high strung and neurotic. I tend to get bent out of shape about the tiniest things -- strangers at work? Oh, God, we're going to get laid off. Funny tingling in my feet? Oh, God, I am going to die. You get the idea.
But since we found out about you, I have had to teach myself to to calm down. You see, I love you so much that I want to make sure my body is the most hospitable place possible for you to hang out. So lately, when I experience something that would normally make me really upset, I consciously choose not to let it bother me. At work, I stopped letting things stress me out. I learned to say no when I felt overwhelmed. When your father and I disagree, I am learning to seek reconciliation faster, spending less time in a cranky mood. This is a lesson that I desperately needed to learn. I think it stands a decent chance of sticking even after you show up. So thanks!
Oh, so you're the size of a banana now. I assume we're talking about length here, since it would be pretty creepy if your actual shape shifted from "small cantaloupe" to "banana."
You should also know that you're going to be getting an extra middle name. Your Grandmother Garrett asked if we'd consider adding her Japanese family name, since there's nobody around to carry it on. I was a little hesitant at first, purely because I am unfortunately resistant to change, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you will probably really appreciate having both sides of your heritage represented in your name. So, you'll be Alexander Kennedy Wada Garrett. It's kind of a mouthful, but I am sure you'll get used to it.
I've started feeling you move around a little bit this past week. At least, I think it's you. It's still sort of hard to tell baby nudges from gas and other normal stomach-related motions. But I am pretty sure it's you. It feels odd. Your Dad felt it too. You get really wiggly right after I eat. It's pretty neat. Keep on wiggling.
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
21 weeks, 4 days in the oven
You see, your mother has always been a little bit high strung and neurotic. I tend to get bent out of shape about the tiniest things -- strangers at work? Oh, God, we're going to get laid off. Funny tingling in my feet? Oh, God, I am going to die. You get the idea.
But since we found out about you, I have had to teach myself to to calm down. You see, I love you so much that I want to make sure my body is the most hospitable place possible for you to hang out. So lately, when I experience something that would normally make me really upset, I consciously choose not to let it bother me. At work, I stopped letting things stress me out. I learned to say no when I felt overwhelmed. When your father and I disagree, I am learning to seek reconciliation faster, spending less time in a cranky mood. This is a lesson that I desperately needed to learn. I think it stands a decent chance of sticking even after you show up. So thanks!
Oh, so you're the size of a banana now. I assume we're talking about length here, since it would be pretty creepy if your actual shape shifted from "small cantaloupe" to "banana."
You should also know that you're going to be getting an extra middle name. Your Grandmother Garrett asked if we'd consider adding her Japanese family name, since there's nobody around to carry it on. I was a little hesitant at first, purely because I am unfortunately resistant to change, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you will probably really appreciate having both sides of your heritage represented in your name. So, you'll be Alexander Kennedy Wada Garrett. It's kind of a mouthful, but I am sure you'll get used to it.
I've started feeling you move around a little bit this past week. At least, I think it's you. It's still sort of hard to tell baby nudges from gas and other normal stomach-related motions. But I am pretty sure it's you. It feels odd. Your Dad felt it too. You get really wiggly right after I eat. It's pretty neat. Keep on wiggling.
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
21 weeks, 4 days in the oven
Friday, August 26, 2011
Dear Toot,
you're a boy! (A small cantaloupe sized boy!) You probably already knew that, but it's a lovely surprise for the rest of us. We're very excited -- not because we wouldn't have been just as happy with a girl, but we're just excited to be learning things about you.
I'm going to try to wean myself off calling you Tootie. Toot should do just fine. Your real name will be Alexander Kennedy Garrett. Your Dad wants to call you Xander, so that's probably what we'll call you. I have a dream that one day, you'll grow up, embrace your inner liberal (like Mommy, like son?) and decide to go by Kennedy. No pressure. =D
So, this might be boring for you, but I thought maybe one day, you might want to know these things.
The first movie you saw (in utero, of course) was "X-Men: First Class." You've also seen the final Harry Potter movie (twice) and "The Help."
Your first concert was the Crystal Method at the Orange Peel in Asheville. You also saw Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Handlebar.
Your first baseball game was on August 15th -- Greenville Drive vs. the Rome Braves. It was a double header. The drive won the first game and lost the second.
Your first road trip will be to Charleston next month, for your parents' anniversary.
You made me throw up four times total:
1. On a bush in Piazza Bergamo.
2. After eating some chicken tenders from Burger King. I drank a Sprite, and it tasted weird and bitter to me. Your father said it tasted normal to him.
3. After I saw some cat puke in the floor.
4. On my way to work. Fortunately, I had a cup in the car to catch it. There wasn't much in my stomach besides the water I used to take my vitamin.
I'm really looking forward to having a boy in the family. When I was growing up, it was just me and your Aunt Colette, so I've never spent much time around a little boy. I know your father is going to do a great job of teaching you how to be a man.
Love,
Mom
20 weeks, 4 days in the oven
I'm going to try to wean myself off calling you Tootie. Toot should do just fine. Your real name will be Alexander Kennedy Garrett. Your Dad wants to call you Xander, so that's probably what we'll call you. I have a dream that one day, you'll grow up, embrace your inner liberal (like Mommy, like son?) and decide to go by Kennedy. No pressure. =D
So, this might be boring for you, but I thought maybe one day, you might want to know these things.
The first movie you saw (in utero, of course) was "X-Men: First Class." You've also seen the final Harry Potter movie (twice) and "The Help."
Your first concert was the Crystal Method at the Orange Peel in Asheville. You also saw Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Handlebar.
Your first baseball game was on August 15th -- Greenville Drive vs. the Rome Braves. It was a double header. The drive won the first game and lost the second.
Your first road trip will be to Charleston next month, for your parents' anniversary.
You made me throw up four times total:
1. On a bush in Piazza Bergamo.
2. After eating some chicken tenders from Burger King. I drank a Sprite, and it tasted weird and bitter to me. Your father said it tasted normal to him.
3. After I saw some cat puke in the floor.
4. On my way to work. Fortunately, I had a cup in the car to catch it. There wasn't much in my stomach besides the water I used to take my vitamin.
I'm really looking forward to having a boy in the family. When I was growing up, it was just me and your Aunt Colette, so I've never spent much time around a little boy. I know your father is going to do a great job of teaching you how to be a man.
Love,
Mom
20 weeks, 4 days in the oven
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Dear Tootie,
I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. I totally skipped over the week when you were onion-sized. This week, you are a sweet potato. That is truly bizarre to me. Up to this point, your fruity/vegetably comparisons have been modestly sized, approachable foods. But sweet potatoes are big! I mean, you are getting to the point where, if I ate you, I'd be full. Crazy!
Your father and I bought a new car. You will soon find out how much I hate spending money... it was pretty stressful for me. I hated having to borrow some of our house savings to put down on the car. But we needed a good, reliable car more immediately than we need a house, so it was just something we had to do. Other than the post-spending hangover, I do like the new vehicle though, and I think you probably will too. It's got more space, and the air conditioning is killer.
You're really messing with my hormones lately. I went to my baby class on Thursday, and I was 95% of the way to tears, just from watching the video on breastfeeding. (On a side note, you got me 100% of the way there this morning, while I foolishly watched a program on soldiers coming home and surprising their families). I have heard some stories about people who tried to breastfeed, but they switched to formula because they had a hard time getting their kids to go along with it. This baffles me. I don't want to get all judgey, but I seriously can't think of a good reason not to breastfeed a child, unless there is some medical condition that makes it unsafe or impractical. It's so much healthier, and it's free! This is an issue that's very important to me, so even if you put up a fight, you should know that we are going to keep at it until we get it down. Humanity survived for millennia without baby formula, so I'm sure we can manage. (And if we have trouble, I bet your Grandma Johnson and your Aunt Christina will give us some pointers).
Big news! We will find out on August 25th whether you are a boy or a girl. I'm excited, but I'm kind of nervous too. Right now, particularly since I haven't felt you move yet, you're still a bit of an abstraction (re: my previous comment about picturing you as a ball of light). Once we find out what you are, once we can start using your real name (although we probably won't), you will become more REAL. More amazing, more immediate, but also more scary. Maybe it's not super cool to admit you're scared of being a parent, but I have to assume most people are (or ought to be). It's a huge responsibility. I'm just happy we have so many great friends and family members around to help us because we are going to need it. Fortunately, your Aunt Lexie sent us a very informative book on things not to do with you (play chess, dry you in the dryer, keep you in a pet crate, etc.), so that should help!
P.S. Aunt Lexie and Uncle Brendan are getting married! I doubt you realize it, but you're very excited. =)
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
18 weeks, 5 days in the oven
Your father and I bought a new car. You will soon find out how much I hate spending money... it was pretty stressful for me. I hated having to borrow some of our house savings to put down on the car. But we needed a good, reliable car more immediately than we need a house, so it was just something we had to do. Other than the post-spending hangover, I do like the new vehicle though, and I think you probably will too. It's got more space, and the air conditioning is killer.
You're really messing with my hormones lately. I went to my baby class on Thursday, and I was 95% of the way to tears, just from watching the video on breastfeeding. (On a side note, you got me 100% of the way there this morning, while I foolishly watched a program on soldiers coming home and surprising their families). I have heard some stories about people who tried to breastfeed, but they switched to formula because they had a hard time getting their kids to go along with it. This baffles me. I don't want to get all judgey, but I seriously can't think of a good reason not to breastfeed a child, unless there is some medical condition that makes it unsafe or impractical. It's so much healthier, and it's free! This is an issue that's very important to me, so even if you put up a fight, you should know that we are going to keep at it until we get it down. Humanity survived for millennia without baby formula, so I'm sure we can manage. (And if we have trouble, I bet your Grandma Johnson and your Aunt Christina will give us some pointers).
Big news! We will find out on August 25th whether you are a boy or a girl. I'm excited, but I'm kind of nervous too. Right now, particularly since I haven't felt you move yet, you're still a bit of an abstraction (re: my previous comment about picturing you as a ball of light). Once we find out what you are, once we can start using your real name (although we probably won't), you will become more REAL. More amazing, more immediate, but also more scary. Maybe it's not super cool to admit you're scared of being a parent, but I have to assume most people are (or ought to be). It's a huge responsibility. I'm just happy we have so many great friends and family members around to help us because we are going to need it. Fortunately, your Aunt Lexie sent us a very informative book on things not to do with you (play chess, dry you in the dryer, keep you in a pet crate, etc.), so that should help!
P.S. Aunt Lexie and Uncle Brendan are getting married! I doubt you realize it, but you're very excited. =)
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
18 weeks, 5 days in the oven
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Dear Tootie,
surprise! You're an avocado. I really love the avocado. Perhaps you will too. Your father didn't care for them at first, but they are slowly growing on him.
I was talking about you again at my Drinking Liberally group. (I know, it seems like I talk about you all the time. I can't help it. I'm excited.) I was having a conversation with a really lovely woman who said that she had no interest whatsoever in having children. I replied, "great!" I'm not going to be one of those proselytizing breeders. If you don't want children, you most definitely should NOT have them. There are few things worse than bringing an unwanted child into the world just because you feel some social or family pressure to reproduce.
Sometimes, though, I feel as though I have to defend myself to people who not only don't want their own children, but don't think anyone else should be having them either. Now, I won't deny that the world is overpopulated. Not having children is a very respectable choice, and I would never fault anyone for that. It's a choice that a lot of socially responsible people make.
What that can mean, though, is that the socially irresponsible people are having a disproportionate number of the children. In the words of my new friend from DL, if they have all the children, then we are ceding the future to them.
Now, let me be clear about one thing. Your father and I decided to have children for a lot of reasons. The first and most important of these is that we want you. Never, ever question that. You were created because we really, really wanted to create you. We talked about it for years before we started trying. We already had names picked out. It was never a question. Wanting children was a basic part of our relationship, which we made sure we agreed about before we got really serious about each other. We are having you because we dreamed of having you.
HOWEVER... I won't deny that, in my quiet dreams, I do have some big hopes for you. I don't care if you decide you're more conservative than I am, and I don't care if we disagree about things. I hope we do. I hope we can learn from each other. I just want you to be GOOD. To be FAIR. To be able to step into someone else's shoes and see the world through someone else's eyes. When I imagine how you look inside me, I picture you as a little shining light, coming to drive away some of the darkness in the world. Your character is such a blank slate right now. I can't wait to fill it up with love and compassion and empathy. I hope you will want that too. I'm ceding the future to you.
Can't wait to meet you! I'm going to go eat a piece of your Dad's birthday cake now.
Love,
Mom
16 weeks, 6 days in the oven
I was talking about you again at my Drinking Liberally group. (I know, it seems like I talk about you all the time. I can't help it. I'm excited.) I was having a conversation with a really lovely woman who said that she had no interest whatsoever in having children. I replied, "great!" I'm not going to be one of those proselytizing breeders. If you don't want children, you most definitely should NOT have them. There are few things worse than bringing an unwanted child into the world just because you feel some social or family pressure to reproduce.
Sometimes, though, I feel as though I have to defend myself to people who not only don't want their own children, but don't think anyone else should be having them either. Now, I won't deny that the world is overpopulated. Not having children is a very respectable choice, and I would never fault anyone for that. It's a choice that a lot of socially responsible people make.
What that can mean, though, is that the socially irresponsible people are having a disproportionate number of the children. In the words of my new friend from DL, if they have all the children, then we are ceding the future to them.
Now, let me be clear about one thing. Your father and I decided to have children for a lot of reasons. The first and most important of these is that we want you. Never, ever question that. You were created because we really, really wanted to create you. We talked about it for years before we started trying. We already had names picked out. It was never a question. Wanting children was a basic part of our relationship, which we made sure we agreed about before we got really serious about each other. We are having you because we dreamed of having you.
HOWEVER... I won't deny that, in my quiet dreams, I do have some big hopes for you. I don't care if you decide you're more conservative than I am, and I don't care if we disagree about things. I hope we do. I hope we can learn from each other. I just want you to be GOOD. To be FAIR. To be able to step into someone else's shoes and see the world through someone else's eyes. When I imagine how you look inside me, I picture you as a little shining light, coming to drive away some of the darkness in the world. Your character is such a blank slate right now. I can't wait to fill it up with love and compassion and empathy. I hope you will want that too. I'm ceding the future to you.
Can't wait to meet you! I'm going to go eat a piece of your Dad's birthday cake now.
Love,
Mom
16 weeks, 6 days in the oven
Monday, July 25, 2011
Dear Tootie,
we're still in the navel orange stage, but since today is the last day of week 15, you should be getting a new fruit tomorrow. I won't spoil the surprise, but I will tell you that your next fruit is one of my favorites!
Oh, Tootie, Tootie, Tootie... you have given me a fair bit of discomfort so far. Here is just a partial list of the ills you have been responsible for:
- nausea
- fatigue
- lack of appetite
- throwing up in public, in front of a coworker (didn't see him until I was finished yakking)
- crazy dreams (I kinda like that one)
- heartburn
- nasal congestion, which is impervious to Vick's, a humidifier, Sudafed, and Breathe Rite nasal strips
- cramps
- dizziness
- headaches
- even worse moodiness than usual
But this recent one takes the cake. Thursday evening, my lower back started hurting terribly, and it just got worse throughout the weekend. I spent the entire weekend (including Friday, when I called in sick to work because I was in so much pain) on the couch or the bed. I watched 30 episodes of "The X Files" on Netflix. (The truth is out there, Tootie. Don't let anybody tell you different). When I stand up from sitting, I wind up just hobbling, hunched over. And the only pain reliever I can take is Tylenol, which I'm 93% certain is actually a well-marketed placebo. I wake up in the middle of the night, aching, and have to just flip over and try it again on the other side. It sucks, Tootie. It really, really sucks.
So I caught myself indulging in some self pity today. I was scribbling on my doodle pad at work, and I found myself writing the phrase "Poor me." Seriously. I mean, it really hurts! But then I realized that, honestly, that's not the case at all. The more accurate statement is "Lucky me."
Lucky me because it's worth it, and it's important to keep reminding myself of that. I have a friend who really wants to have kids, but, for various reasons, can't pursue that goal right now. I have some friends who have suffered the horrors of miscarriages, who want nothing more than to have painful, uncomfortable, inconvenient little fruit-sized people inside of them. How can I let myself forget what a wonderful, beautiful, mysterious gift you are?
Also lucky me because I have an awesome husband who takes care of me, bringing me cake and gatorade and veggie sushi and chicken biscuits, when I don't feel like getting up off the couch. I can't imagine trying to do this by myself (or if I were married to a jerk).
So yes, my back is still killing me, and I would perform any number of impressive feats to be allowed to take an Advil. And yes, I still live on Tums, and I had to leave the jalapenos off my last pizza (boo!) But I know it's all for a good cause -- the best cause! -- and this, too, shall pass.
Love,
Mom
15 weeks, 7 days in the oven
Oh, Tootie, Tootie, Tootie... you have given me a fair bit of discomfort so far. Here is just a partial list of the ills you have been responsible for:
- nausea
- fatigue
- lack of appetite
- throwing up in public, in front of a coworker (didn't see him until I was finished yakking)
- crazy dreams (I kinda like that one)
- heartburn
- nasal congestion, which is impervious to Vick's, a humidifier, Sudafed, and Breathe Rite nasal strips
- cramps
- dizziness
- headaches
- even worse moodiness than usual
But this recent one takes the cake. Thursday evening, my lower back started hurting terribly, and it just got worse throughout the weekend. I spent the entire weekend (including Friday, when I called in sick to work because I was in so much pain) on the couch or the bed. I watched 30 episodes of "The X Files" on Netflix. (The truth is out there, Tootie. Don't let anybody tell you different). When I stand up from sitting, I wind up just hobbling, hunched over. And the only pain reliever I can take is Tylenol, which I'm 93% certain is actually a well-marketed placebo. I wake up in the middle of the night, aching, and have to just flip over and try it again on the other side. It sucks, Tootie. It really, really sucks.
So I caught myself indulging in some self pity today. I was scribbling on my doodle pad at work, and I found myself writing the phrase "Poor me." Seriously. I mean, it really hurts! But then I realized that, honestly, that's not the case at all. The more accurate statement is "Lucky me."
Lucky me because it's worth it, and it's important to keep reminding myself of that. I have a friend who really wants to have kids, but, for various reasons, can't pursue that goal right now. I have some friends who have suffered the horrors of miscarriages, who want nothing more than to have painful, uncomfortable, inconvenient little fruit-sized people inside of them. How can I let myself forget what a wonderful, beautiful, mysterious gift you are?
Also lucky me because I have an awesome husband who takes care of me, bringing me cake and gatorade and veggie sushi and chicken biscuits, when I don't feel like getting up off the couch. I can't imagine trying to do this by myself (or if I were married to a jerk).
So yes, my back is still killing me, and I would perform any number of impressive feats to be allowed to take an Advil. And yes, I still live on Tums, and I had to leave the jalapenos off my last pizza (boo!) But I know it's all for a good cause -- the best cause! -- and this, too, shall pass.
Love,
Mom
15 weeks, 7 days in the oven
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Dear Tootie,
first off, you're a naval orange now. I know you were wondering.
You probably don't realize it, but you had a pretty sweet weekend. Thursday night, your Dad and I went to the midnight showing of the last Harry Potter movie. I don't know if you enjoyed it, but we did. You probably enjoyed it more than I did because, not having read the book, you weren't constantly comparing the two in your head. This wasn't your first movie, as it happpens. You also saw X-Men: First Class, which I think you probably liked too. (You have also been to your first concert. You saw the Crystal Method at the Orange Peel, and you're going to see Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Handlebar next month. Tell me you're as excited as I am!)
Then, on Friday, you and I pretty much slept all day. We finally got off our butts around 6:00 and started packing up the spare room (also known as Tootie's future bedroom). There are so many books in there! Most of them are going into storage until we buy a house. I hope you love reading as much as I do because there are a ton of books I can't wait to share with you.
On Saturday, you and I drove down to Greenwood and saw Harry Potter again with your Aunt Christina, Uncle Alan, and your cousins Al and Johnny. Later on, we had dinner with the whole family, which also includes your cousins Gracie and Lucy. They gave you some awesome presents. I love the clothes, but since you won't really be able to read or understand the words on them, I think you'll probably get more enjoyment out of the swing and the very cool book. You'll have to hang out with the Greens a lot after you are born because they are a super cool family. Your little cousins are all really sweet, smart, neat kids, and I know you will be able to learn a lot from them.
We'll find out in about a month whether you are a boy or a girl, but I'm not going to lie. We'll probably keep calling you Tootie. I apologize in advance for any way in which this may traumatize you.
Oh, I have such high hopes for you, Tootie.
I look around me and see so many small-minded people. I see so much veiled racism and classism, so much not-really-veiled homophobia. All joking aside, I know there WILL be things your father and I do wrong. It's almost inevitable that we will do SOMETHING that might land you in therapy later. But I promise you that we will never, ever teach you that you are better than anyone else. We will never teach you that anyone has less right to live and to be happy than you do.
I'm so excited about the person you'll become. Now, let me be crystal clear about one thing. Your grandparents Johnson did a fantastic job of raising me. They taught me to be fair and compassionate and to treat people equally. But those were less-enlightened times. I grew up in a town where the Ku Klux Klan still marched sometimes (God, I pray that when you read this, you have to ask me who they are). I grew up thinking that if only I were rich, it would solve all my problems. I remember a time, despite your grandparents' good intentions, when I thought that being gay was "gross."
I've had to figure a lot of things out on my own. But we are going to try so hard to teach you, right off the bat, that God loves everybody the same, that you should treat everybody the same, that being different is beautiful, and that you should always stand up for people who get picked on.
I still can't wait to meet you.
Love,
Mom
15 weeks, 1 day in the oven
You probably don't realize it, but you had a pretty sweet weekend. Thursday night, your Dad and I went to the midnight showing of the last Harry Potter movie. I don't know if you enjoyed it, but we did. You probably enjoyed it more than I did because, not having read the book, you weren't constantly comparing the two in your head. This wasn't your first movie, as it happpens. You also saw X-Men: First Class, which I think you probably liked too. (You have also been to your first concert. You saw the Crystal Method at the Orange Peel, and you're going to see Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Handlebar next month. Tell me you're as excited as I am!)
Then, on Friday, you and I pretty much slept all day. We finally got off our butts around 6:00 and started packing up the spare room (also known as Tootie's future bedroom). There are so many books in there! Most of them are going into storage until we buy a house. I hope you love reading as much as I do because there are a ton of books I can't wait to share with you.
On Saturday, you and I drove down to Greenwood and saw Harry Potter again with your Aunt Christina, Uncle Alan, and your cousins Al and Johnny. Later on, we had dinner with the whole family, which also includes your cousins Gracie and Lucy. They gave you some awesome presents. I love the clothes, but since you won't really be able to read or understand the words on them, I think you'll probably get more enjoyment out of the swing and the very cool book. You'll have to hang out with the Greens a lot after you are born because they are a super cool family. Your little cousins are all really sweet, smart, neat kids, and I know you will be able to learn a lot from them.
We'll find out in about a month whether you are a boy or a girl, but I'm not going to lie. We'll probably keep calling you Tootie. I apologize in advance for any way in which this may traumatize you.
Oh, I have such high hopes for you, Tootie.
I look around me and see so many small-minded people. I see so much veiled racism and classism, so much not-really-veiled homophobia. All joking aside, I know there WILL be things your father and I do wrong. It's almost inevitable that we will do SOMETHING that might land you in therapy later. But I promise you that we will never, ever teach you that you are better than anyone else. We will never teach you that anyone has less right to live and to be happy than you do.
I'm so excited about the person you'll become. Now, let me be crystal clear about one thing. Your grandparents Johnson did a fantastic job of raising me. They taught me to be fair and compassionate and to treat people equally. But those were less-enlightened times. I grew up in a town where the Ku Klux Klan still marched sometimes (God, I pray that when you read this, you have to ask me who they are). I grew up thinking that if only I were rich, it would solve all my problems. I remember a time, despite your grandparents' good intentions, when I thought that being gay was "gross."
I've had to figure a lot of things out on my own. But we are going to try so hard to teach you, right off the bat, that God loves everybody the same, that you should treat everybody the same, that being different is beautiful, and that you should always stand up for people who get picked on.
I still can't wait to meet you.
Love,
Mom
15 weeks, 1 day in the oven
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Dear Tootie,
you're the size of a lemon! I just thought you should know.
I've been very tired this week. My body must be knitting together some really important/complicated part of you right now. Something is sure wearing me out.
I just wanted to let you know that, although there are some exceptions, I have been trying to eat as well as possible lately. For the first three months, I just ate whatever I could stomach. This diet generally consisted of Chick Fil-A biscuits, tater tots, and relatively bland pasta. Now that my stomach is less picky, I'm trying harder to stick to organic and farmers' market foods. You seem to be responding well to the Trader Joe's yogurt.
I feel that I should apologize in advance for what a "mean Mom" I'm going to be when it comes to food. I have pretty strong ideas about where my food comes from (those 3 months notwithstanding), and I am going to want to make sure you're eating the best things we can find. This means that, someday, you're probably going to complain to your friends about how horrible your parents are because they won't take you to McDonald's. It may not make sense at the time, but there are several reasons that I will be loathe to feed you fast food. I don't want to support a lot of the industries involved in making that sort of food, and I also don't want to squander our money when we can honestly cook at home for less money.
Mostly, though, I don't want to jeopardize your health. I'll tell you more about it when you're older, but I ought to tell you that I struggled with my weight for a lot of my early life. My excess weight robbed me of my self esteem (for many years, anyway), and it kept me from having a lot of the experiences that young people look forward to. I do NOT want this life for you. So please cut me some slack when I force you to go outside and play. Forgive me when I don't give you a ton of treats. Don't get too angry when I say that certain restaurants are only for special occasions. I may go overboard, but I promise you, it comes from a place of love.
Love,
Mom
14 weeks, 2 days in the oven
I've been very tired this week. My body must be knitting together some really important/complicated part of you right now. Something is sure wearing me out.
I just wanted to let you know that, although there are some exceptions, I have been trying to eat as well as possible lately. For the first three months, I just ate whatever I could stomach. This diet generally consisted of Chick Fil-A biscuits, tater tots, and relatively bland pasta. Now that my stomach is less picky, I'm trying harder to stick to organic and farmers' market foods. You seem to be responding well to the Trader Joe's yogurt.
I feel that I should apologize in advance for what a "mean Mom" I'm going to be when it comes to food. I have pretty strong ideas about where my food comes from (those 3 months notwithstanding), and I am going to want to make sure you're eating the best things we can find. This means that, someday, you're probably going to complain to your friends about how horrible your parents are because they won't take you to McDonald's. It may not make sense at the time, but there are several reasons that I will be loathe to feed you fast food. I don't want to support a lot of the industries involved in making that sort of food, and I also don't want to squander our money when we can honestly cook at home for less money.
Mostly, though, I don't want to jeopardize your health. I'll tell you more about it when you're older, but I ought to tell you that I struggled with my weight for a lot of my early life. My excess weight robbed me of my self esteem (for many years, anyway), and it kept me from having a lot of the experiences that young people look forward to. I do NOT want this life for you. So please cut me some slack when I force you to go outside and play. Forgive me when I don't give you a ton of treats. Don't get too angry when I say that certain restaurants are only for special occasions. I may go overboard, but I promise you, it comes from a place of love.
Love,
Mom
14 weeks, 2 days in the oven
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Dear Tootie,
earlier this week, your Aunt Christie and I went to the Natural Baby store downtown to scope out cloth diapers. I've known for a while that I wanted to go that route, but I was a little intimidated. I feel much better now after seeing the awesome options that are available these days. They make fancy-pants cloth diapers that are as easy to use as the disposable ones. Plus, we'll save a lot of money in the long run, we'll avoid creating all that unnecessary waste, and you won't have a bunch of chemicals on your bum. So that's nice. One thing out of the way. Your Dad and I registered today for a bunch of BumGenius organic diapers.
On an unrelated note, you are giving me monster heartburn lately. What's up with that? I haven't eaten anything especially odd. Did you know that they make ULTRA STRENGTH Tums? I bought some, of course. I would have bought UNGODLY STRENGTH if it were available. I've read that severe heartburn can indicate that your baby will have a lot of hair. If this is true, I am fairly certain I am carrying a sasquatch. Of course, I don't find it surprising that your father and I might have a hairy child. We both have a lot of hair. Your father's hair gets gigantic when he grows it out. (We call it his Jafro).
Oh! Great news! Your grandparents Johnson bought you a bassinet, so you don't have to worry about sleeping in the Tupperware.
Here's what I know about you so far:
You don't like bread.
You find jalapenos and sausage disagreeable.
You are a fan of pickles and tater tots.
The sight of cat puke makes you gag.
You're still peach sized. Don't worry. I'll alert you as soon as that changes. I would hate for you to miss a moment of the fruit-packed action.
Love,
Mom
13 weeks, 5 days in the oven
On an unrelated note, you are giving me monster heartburn lately. What's up with that? I haven't eaten anything especially odd. Did you know that they make ULTRA STRENGTH Tums? I bought some, of course. I would have bought UNGODLY STRENGTH if it were available. I've read that severe heartburn can indicate that your baby will have a lot of hair. If this is true, I am fairly certain I am carrying a sasquatch. Of course, I don't find it surprising that your father and I might have a hairy child. We both have a lot of hair. Your father's hair gets gigantic when he grows it out. (We call it his Jafro).
Oh! Great news! Your grandparents Johnson bought you a bassinet, so you don't have to worry about sleeping in the Tupperware.
Here's what I know about you so far:
You don't like bread.
You find jalapenos and sausage disagreeable.
You are a fan of pickles and tater tots.
The sight of cat puke makes you gag.
You're still peach sized. Don't worry. I'll alert you as soon as that changes. I would hate for you to miss a moment of the fruit-packed action.
Love,
Mom
13 weeks, 5 days in the oven
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Dear Tootie,
I bought you some clothes yesterday.
I have to say, it's pretty difficult buying gender-neutral clothing. I hope I don't brainwash you into the narrow kind of thinking that says "pink is for girls, and blue is for boys," but honestly, I probably won't put you in a frilly pink tutu if you're a boy. Actually, I probably won't put you in a frilly pink tutu if you're a girl either. A lot of the mainstream baby clothes make me want to vomit a little. I've never really been a fan of pastels. I don't find them cute or sweet. I find them empty and washed out. I like bright, loud colors. Anyway, yesterday's haul consisted of four items -- two that feature owls, one that features a robot, and one that's covered with little stars and says "Mommy Rocks" (she does).
You're evidently the size of a peach now! Fancy that! That's actually even creepier than usual because I have eaten a lot of peaches lately. When you're older, I'll explain to you about how pregnancy affects your digestion and why peaches and pears suddenly become very appealing. Warning: It's grody. Pray you're a boy and won't have to worry about it.
My Drinking Liberally group met tonight, and someone asked me if I worried about the kind of future I am bringing you into. She wasn't asking in the "oh-my-God-how-can-you-have-a-child?" sort of way. She was just genuinely curious, not being a parent. It was an interesting question, and it's one I've thought a lot about. I have to admit to you that we are bringing you into a fairly troubled world. The divide between the upper and lower classes is getting ridiculously large, and I worry that you will have it even harder than your father and I have sometimes had it. I worry that you won't have guaranteed healthcare, and I worry that you'll face the harsh consequences of everything my generation (and those before it) have done to the environment. I worry that the education system will get worse, and you'll spend a lot of time in class without actually learning anything.
But more than all that, I feel confident that you're going to be a good, smart, conscientious person. We may bring you into a tough world, but I think that that world needs you. It will need a lot of thoughtful, compassionate, brave people to help make it better. I promise that your father and I will keep doing everything we can to make it a better place now, and we will do our best to teach you how important it is to keep up the fight yourself. If we can teach you to appreciate wisdom, justice, beauty, and fair play, you will be off to a good start.
Please enjoy the robot and owls. By the time you read this, you will probably have seen a TON of pictures of yourself wearing them. You also have a Ramones onesie, which I bought years ago on a whim. It's bright red.
Love,
Mom
13 weeks, 3 days in the oven
I have to say, it's pretty difficult buying gender-neutral clothing. I hope I don't brainwash you into the narrow kind of thinking that says "pink is for girls, and blue is for boys," but honestly, I probably won't put you in a frilly pink tutu if you're a boy. Actually, I probably won't put you in a frilly pink tutu if you're a girl either. A lot of the mainstream baby clothes make me want to vomit a little. I've never really been a fan of pastels. I don't find them cute or sweet. I find them empty and washed out. I like bright, loud colors. Anyway, yesterday's haul consisted of four items -- two that feature owls, one that features a robot, and one that's covered with little stars and says "Mommy Rocks" (she does).
You're evidently the size of a peach now! Fancy that! That's actually even creepier than usual because I have eaten a lot of peaches lately. When you're older, I'll explain to you about how pregnancy affects your digestion and why peaches and pears suddenly become very appealing. Warning: It's grody. Pray you're a boy and won't have to worry about it.
My Drinking Liberally group met tonight, and someone asked me if I worried about the kind of future I am bringing you into. She wasn't asking in the "oh-my-God-how-can-you-have-a-child?" sort of way. She was just genuinely curious, not being a parent. It was an interesting question, and it's one I've thought a lot about. I have to admit to you that we are bringing you into a fairly troubled world. The divide between the upper and lower classes is getting ridiculously large, and I worry that you will have it even harder than your father and I have sometimes had it. I worry that you won't have guaranteed healthcare, and I worry that you'll face the harsh consequences of everything my generation (and those before it) have done to the environment. I worry that the education system will get worse, and you'll spend a lot of time in class without actually learning anything.
But more than all that, I feel confident that you're going to be a good, smart, conscientious person. We may bring you into a tough world, but I think that that world needs you. It will need a lot of thoughtful, compassionate, brave people to help make it better. I promise that your father and I will keep doing everything we can to make it a better place now, and we will do our best to teach you how important it is to keep up the fight yourself. If we can teach you to appreciate wisdom, justice, beauty, and fair play, you will be off to a good start.
Please enjoy the robot and owls. By the time you read this, you will probably have seen a TON of pictures of yourself wearing them. You also have a Ramones onesie, which I bought years ago on a whim. It's bright red.
Love,
Mom
13 weeks, 3 days in the oven
Monday, July 4, 2011
Dear Tootie,
we don't really know anything about you yet, but it's fun to speculate. Here are my predictions, which are completely arbitrary and have no basis in anything approaching science:
You will be a girl.
You will have dark blonde hair and green eyes.
You will be fairly tall - 5'8" or 5'9".
You will be left-handed.
You will have light olive skin.
You will love music.
You will be athletic.
You will be a little ... strange.
You will have a good vocabulary.
Here is my HOPE: You will be as happy and outgoing as your father and as studious and well-behaved as your mother. God help us if it's the other way around.
Your father and I are going downtown tonight to see the fireworks. I hope it doesn't bother you. I don't believe you can hear yet, so you should be fine.
Love, Mom
12 weeks, 7 days in the oven
You will be a girl.
You will have dark blonde hair and green eyes.
You will be fairly tall - 5'8" or 5'9".
You will be left-handed.
You will have light olive skin.
You will love music.
You will be athletic.
You will be a little ... strange.
You will have a good vocabulary.
Here is my HOPE: You will be as happy and outgoing as your father and as studious and well-behaved as your mother. God help us if it's the other way around.
Your father and I are going downtown tonight to see the fireworks. I hope it doesn't bother you. I don't believe you can hear yet, so you should be fine.
Love, Mom
12 weeks, 7 days in the oven
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Sunday, July 3, 2011
Dear Tootie,
One day, when you're old enough to appreciate the splendor that was "The Facts of Life," I will explain to you why your nickname in utero is Tootie.
You're the size of a plum now. I'm very sorry that I am starting this blog so late that you'll miss your previous progression through the fruit kingdom. I've entirely passed over poppyseed, appleseed, small pea (that's when we found out about you), blueberry, raspberry, green olive, prune, and lime. I won't lie to you. I'll be happy when you grow out of the phase where people use food items to help me visualize your size. I find it creepy.
A lot has happened already. I got to see your little arms flailing around a few weeks ago. Your father got attached to you after we heard your heartbeat at our first doctor visit, but for me, the misty eyes came when I saw your body move.
A lot of people are very excited to meet you. Your Granny and Grandpa are ecstatic. Seriously. Your grandmother Johnson calls me every day. She just bought you some clothes the other day. They're green. She wanted to go with something gender neutral, since we still don't know whether you're a boy or a girl.
Your Aunt Colette and Uncle Chuck are also thrilled, as are your honorary aunts and uncles -- Alan and Christina, Lexie and Brendan, Heidi and Sean, and Rhett and Denise. You aren't even here yet, but already everybody adores you.
Your Dad and I worry a bit -- well, mostly me. You will soon learn that your father has a very refreshing and optimistic outlook on life -- one that I hope you inherit. He always assumes that everything will work out okay in the end. And he's always right! It would be annoying if it weren't so comforting. So I worry. I worry about money, about my job (especially now... things are crazy and scary lately), about how we will raise you and if we'll do a good job.
You should know that, no matter what, we will always love you and support you and stand up for you. You are free to be whoever you want, to love whomever you want, and to pursue whatever passions you choose.
I will end for now by sharing with you a dream I had a couple of weeks ago.
I dreamt that I had you. You just fell out in my sleep. I asked your father if we had gone to the hospital, and he said that we hadn't. I was upset because I told him that we should have gone, so we could apply for your social security card and get you a birth certificate.
You were about a month early, and we didn't have your bed yet, so I had you sleeping in a Tupperware container. I remember that your body was very warm, and you were incredibly snuggly.
Chris and I went to Wal-Mart to get you a bed. (You should know that I am not, in general, a fan of Wal-Mart, but it was a dream, and I had no control over my consumer choices). While we were in the car, I asked your father where you were, and he said, "She's okay. She's with the cats." You were a girl in the dream.
I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea to leave you at home with the cats, but we continued on our trip anyway.
I share this so you will know that no matter how much we may screw you up, it could have been worse.
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
12 weeks, 6 days
You're the size of a plum now. I'm very sorry that I am starting this blog so late that you'll miss your previous progression through the fruit kingdom. I've entirely passed over poppyseed, appleseed, small pea (that's when we found out about you), blueberry, raspberry, green olive, prune, and lime. I won't lie to you. I'll be happy when you grow out of the phase where people use food items to help me visualize your size. I find it creepy.
A lot has happened already. I got to see your little arms flailing around a few weeks ago. Your father got attached to you after we heard your heartbeat at our first doctor visit, but for me, the misty eyes came when I saw your body move.
A lot of people are very excited to meet you. Your Granny and Grandpa are ecstatic. Seriously. Your grandmother Johnson calls me every day. She just bought you some clothes the other day. They're green. She wanted to go with something gender neutral, since we still don't know whether you're a boy or a girl.
Your Aunt Colette and Uncle Chuck are also thrilled, as are your honorary aunts and uncles -- Alan and Christina, Lexie and Brendan, Heidi and Sean, and Rhett and Denise. You aren't even here yet, but already everybody adores you.
Your Dad and I worry a bit -- well, mostly me. You will soon learn that your father has a very refreshing and optimistic outlook on life -- one that I hope you inherit. He always assumes that everything will work out okay in the end. And he's always right! It would be annoying if it weren't so comforting. So I worry. I worry about money, about my job (especially now... things are crazy and scary lately), about how we will raise you and if we'll do a good job.
You should know that, no matter what, we will always love you and support you and stand up for you. You are free to be whoever you want, to love whomever you want, and to pursue whatever passions you choose.
I will end for now by sharing with you a dream I had a couple of weeks ago.
I dreamt that I had you. You just fell out in my sleep. I asked your father if we had gone to the hospital, and he said that we hadn't. I was upset because I told him that we should have gone, so we could apply for your social security card and get you a birth certificate.
You were about a month early, and we didn't have your bed yet, so I had you sleeping in a Tupperware container. I remember that your body was very warm, and you were incredibly snuggly.
Chris and I went to Wal-Mart to get you a bed. (You should know that I am not, in general, a fan of Wal-Mart, but it was a dream, and I had no control over my consumer choices). While we were in the car, I asked your father where you were, and he said, "She's okay. She's with the cats." You were a girl in the dream.
I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea to leave you at home with the cats, but we continued on our trip anyway.
I share this so you will know that no matter how much we may screw you up, it could have been worse.
Can't wait to meet you!
Love,
Mom
12 weeks, 6 days
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