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

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

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

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

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

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

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

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

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