Stubborn

Dear Petit Escargot,

Your mama and her tech spent about an hour today trying to get you to move and flash us your bits.  At first, you seemed to be curled up asleep.  Later, you might move an arm or a leg, but stayed curled into a ball.  Even getting a mild case of the hiccups seemed to not faze you in the least.  But I did get to see your heartbeat and though you firmly refused to give us a profile shot of your head, I did get one of you staring us straight on. 

And really, I'm okay.  I'd like to know for sure so I can start stocking up on diapers and swaddling blankets.  But it doesn't really matter.  For the beginning you'll wear a lot of white onesies.  And I have no problem putting you in either pink or blue regardless of gender (though your Daddy is leaning more towards a dark purple). 

However, whether you would like to stay in a ball or not, can you please come out of my pelvis?  That explains why my lower bit aches so much.  I'd appreciate you realizing your mama has a long torso with plenty of room for you to stretch out in. 

So, tomorrow, remember to smile pretty for the camera and do a little dance.

Love,
Mama

Click Clack

My fingers bend back and forth, knitting one stitch at a time.  I stare off, listening to a television show and am amazed at how quickly this blanket is coming together.  At this rate I could have several knitted before you ever arrive.

And I have a list as long as my arm of little baby things I'm planning to make you.  Little mitts so you don't scratch yourself, little socks and booties and cardigans I'm going to knit, babylegs I'll make from fun striped socks, baby blankets and sheets and mats I plan to sew, and a little cashmere bunny made from an old sweater I used to wear.  It feels natural, to make you things, to prepare for you with my own hands. 

We've bought you elephants, little lovies for you to grasp with tiny hands.  But it's the idea of painting a little elephant, a snail, a bunny to amuse you that pleases me most. 

This week is what everyone has been waiting for except me.  I already know you.  I can't feel you yet, and still we have the most delightful conversations about the adventures we will have.  I look for parks for us to run in.  I look for places that your daddy and I will show you as we help you get to know this big world. 

But for now the click clack of the needles is enough.  I'm in no hurry.  I already have you.

Hey You, In There

I tend to jokingly complain a lot about pregnancy stuff.  Not because I'm not excited but I don't want to be one of those holier-than-thou, glowy, aren't-I-amazing-doing-something-so-miraculous women.  Those types drive me nuts.  I always want to scream that women have been doing this since the dawn of time... I'm pretty sure you're not doing something you're gonna get much credit for.  Sure, we're growing humans (in a freaky mad scientist sort of way when you think about it), and it is miraculous... but it's nothing new.

However, you, yes, you, in there.  I kind of am in love with you already.  When no one else is around and I put my hands on my belly urging your insane dancing to finally make it's way to where I can feel it.  When we have our little talks about behaviour and food choices.  All those moments are just ours for now. 

Your daddy reads these posts and tears up.  So I'm certain that when he gets back he'll have his hands poking and pushing against your kicks and swirls.  He'll lean down close and tell you stories (don't believe the insane one about getting lost in the woods and nearly dying... he tends to exaggerate... a LOT...you'll probably inherit that) and sing to you and read you great words that men and women long ago wrote. 

We're both excited to just take our time with this.  I mean, sure, I'm more than a little excited about pushing you out and getting to kiss your little head.  But I'm in no hurry.  You just take your sweet time in there.  We'll be here when you come out.

Dear Escargot,

Your Aunt Theresa visited this weekend.  She showed up on Friday to your mama having a flat stomach, and by the wee hours of Sunday morning there you were, apparently wanting to introduce yourself before she left.  Suddenly the bump is round and firm and higher up above my navel.

I'm just fascinated by you.  Not having a sister or close friend whose had a child makes me feel a little lost sometimes.  I was worried I was still so flat and not pregnant looking.  And now I just stare at my belly, and the way it come forward right in the middle, hard as if to say you're here to stay. 

We've still got quite a while, you and me... about 23-25 weeks unless you're early.  A lifetime!  But no worries, you just stay in there all you want.  I'm in no hurry to evict you yet.  As long as you play nice and don't jam me in the ribs too often as I fall asleep.

Love,
Mama

Opinions On Fertility

So, if you've followed along I've explained why the doctors I've spoken with have agreed that my cyst probably had quite a bit to do with us getting pregnant in a one shot fashion when other times it seemed hopeless.  G and I call it God's little fertility drug, and are actually glad we know about it.  Because it seems that perhaps there is a correlation between my body needing progesterone and getting pregnant.  Most people who have baseball sized cysts know about them (because apparently they hurt, mine didn't), and they usually are more of an issue rather than just quietly going away. 

That being said, this may be our only biological child.  I told G upfront that we'd go on a case by case basis, but I was only promising him 1.  We both want to adopt the world other children so it doesn't affect us being parents to a large brood, if we so choose.  However, it's good to know that if we do want another biological child, and we have fertility issues again, that then would be the time to discuss with the doctor progesterone shots. 

We were not planning to do anything medically about our fertility issues.  I've spoken to G about my feelings on it, and he agrees with me.  I feel that for some people there is a reason that their bodies can't seem to make it work, and I feel that with adoption as an option for us, that it isn't worth the risk to both my body and the child to try anything further than hormone shots.  IVF was not something I was willing to even consider.  The largest study on babies born through IVF (I believe done in Sweden) found a higher rate of birth defects and cancer rates.  I'm not willing to risk a higher rate of health problems for my child because of my desire to carry one.

Now, many people can say, "But you can say that because you're pregnant."  No, I have said this for the last 4 years, discussing it with G every time my cycle came, or every time we had what can be described as an very early term miscarriage.  I said these things even as I was trying to accept that I may never give birth to a child.  Perhaps I'm more accepting of life and my own limitations, but I was able to think about it rationally, and was lucky because I have an incredibly supportive husband.

Yes, we're happy that we now are having a child, and we may be lucky enough to have another some day.  But I'm also okay with the idea that this may be our one shot.  I will love all my children, no matter how God sees fit to give them to me. 

Dear Escargot,

I cannot wait for you to meet your daddy!  He's one of the funniest people I know, in a goofy fun way.  I can already picture the two of you giggling together, playing tricks on your mama.  This morning he was waking up and said he didn't want to get up, and so he was going to hide in his room because he had an invisibility cloak (his blanket) and proceeded to hide under the covers.  He does this in a little kid way and it cracks me up every time. 

You're incredibly lucky, kid.  Forts and hide and seek and tickle wars are all in your future.  I've never met a man so loving before, and he is gonna be wrapped up right around your little finger.  I'm sure people will ask immediately when we're having a second, but I'm pretty sure between the two of you I'm gonna have my hands full!

One of the reasons I knew your daddy was it for me was how big his heart is.  He just loves me unconditionally and I wanted a man like that to have a family with.  So all the mess from indoor water fights and bubble bath splashing and playing airplane and having things get broken will be worth it.  The two of you will be happy and giggly and that is all a woman can ask for.

Love,
Mama

Practice Makes For Lessened Fears

Okay, so, um... yeah.  I've been wondering lately what on earth God was thinking making me a mother.  I mean, I'm kind of selfish.  Not in the "needs to grow up" way, but in the "I like my own time and money to spend on myself" sort of way that many adults I know do.  And I'm that non-mother who totally judges other parents in public.  For the record I am that person who kids flock to, and I generally find them adorable.  But if your kid is tearing apart a store or restaurant while you ignore it (and the child) completely I reserve the right to judge and stare.  Don't even get me started on parents who I see verbally abusing a small child...that calls for me weighing the option of prisons.  And I worried that a baby screaming, either upset or in joy, would make me jump out of my skin.

But yesterday I spent the afternoon at my friend's in-home daycare (that's the most professional in-home daycare I've ever seen...it's upper age is run more like an awesome pre-school...no wonder the parents don't seem to want their kids to age out).  I spent my time in the baby room with 4 babies all under 1.  I was in freakin' heaven!  I played with the babies.  I changed the babies (including one with snap cloth diapers).  I fed a baby who is at the stage where she doesn't want to take the bottle, but I got her to drink over 3/4 of it.  At one point I had one baby in my arms and I reached down and scooped up another who spent the afternoon playing "escape artist." 

And there was screaming.  One in particular did not like being woken up, so she clung close and just bawled.  And then when I went to change her she just cried harder.  But, we got it done and suddenly she was all about smiling at me every time she saw me.  And there was plenty of joyful screaming as well.  Not a bit fazed me in the least.  I told my friend, "I think this is reassuring me I won't suck as a mom."  She just laughed and asked why on earth I had been thinking that... she's seen me with her 2 year old who thinks I'm the best thing since sliced bread. 

I'm learning that I don't have to be super mom to be a good mom.  I'm not a bad pregnant woman simply because I've chosen this period to spend a bit of money and time on myself.  And I still have doubts.  I've not gained much weight and I realized today that my pants are once again a bit loose so I'm panicking a bit.  And I've already realized the guilt after a sip of wine as my once very scientific mind begins to worry I've screwed my kid up even though I know it's not really possible no matter what the mommy-police like to say.  But overall I think, "I can do this.  I'm going to rock as a mama."