It's strange to me how I am able to go about my day in complete and total normalcy while you are creating yourself.
That's not to say that I feel you are an insignificant addition, not in the least.
See?
I already consider you an addition.
Because in my mind, you are already you--I just haven't met you quite yet.
But it's very weird to go about the mundane while you are thick in the heart of the most critical days of development. Pieces have to fit right, you have to follow your blueprint precisely...there's really very little room for error. Right now, you are stitching together the foundation of you, and here I spent the day folding laundry.
Talk about an unfair balance of work!
Though it doesn't show on my face or on my body, you are constantly in my mind.
I think of your gender already--another rowdy Martin boy? Or maybe a long-hoped for sister for Greer?
I re-arrange the bedrooms mentally, making space for you though this is hard because I won't know where you're going until you arrive.
There will be no gender peeking for this Mama.
I simply don't want to know, never have, don't think I ever will.
I like the surprise of you. I like spending the ten months of pregnancy imagining different senarios, different names, the different path you will set this family on just with who you are.
I don't need to know if you're a boy or girl.
You're mine and that's enough.
Today was your brother Rhyse's birthday and also Halloween.
There were five little pumpkins carved and sitting on the front porch--and I noticed immediately.
I liked the cluster, the addition of the one little pumpkin.
You and I were out running errands while Daddy and the others carved so I didn't see them until they were all out front and lined up together.
I posted the photo online on my other blog, the one you will soon star in :), and wondered...will anyone notice the addition? Will anyone count them and think...but there's FIVE pumpkins there and only four kids....???
Only two know of your existance right now--my friends Jenny and Staci.
They knew you were a possibility from the start and both were very excited to learn whether or not you were coming.
I can't tell our family just yet as there's a small snafu with your Auntie.
She's turning 21 in just two weeks and really wants your Mama to come and have fun for a night.
Though I won't be drinking in her celebration, I won't be telling of your existance.
I will be sneaky for the night :)
I'm excited for them to know about you but I don't want to steal the attention--or to have her upset that I'm not participating.
I will be my normal party-loving self...while dumping my drinks into the toilet during one of my many bathroom breaks.
This is a very important day for her, one she's looked forward to for a long time, one that I've been told a million times to save-the-date for so...I just can't make the announcement yet.
I'm thinking around Thanksgiving, we will let family know and then I will share the news with the rest our friends.
You are growing well, I can tell.
Not only do I have complete trust and faith in you to stitch yourself together correctly, I'm starting to have symptoms of you already:
--Last night, I craved, CRAVED, the most annoying snack in the world for your daddy to make for us--cucumbers and carrots, both cut into tiny pieces, and covered with italian dressing.
He painstakingly chopped and seasoned for 20 minutes at 11:30pm, during a paused t.v show.
I can't explain it, you just had to have it.
And since you're super busy in there, it's the least we can do for you, to provide what you ask for.
At least that's what I told him :)
--Today I walked into the kitchen and gasped, "What is that SMELL?"
I smelled mold, like a moldy kitchen towel or worse, sink drain mold. Your dad looked at me like I'd lost my mind--he didn't smell a thing, while I had to leave the room because it was so offensive.
--My boobs are S-O-R-E.
This is really my only way of checking on you right now because I can't feel you moving yet. Once you are big enough to kick me, I will know you're fine. But right now you are so small and I have no way of making sure that you're still with me, still growing, still following your blueprint.
I'm constantly, randomly, doing a boob check and I probably look INSANE to people because I know I do it when I'm deep in thought over you and unaware of the company around me.
But they've become super tender since even the two days ago that I learned of your existance.
This is a good sign but I'm worried for what's to come.
You will make me sick, you will steal my health and energy for awhile and it's going to start in just a week or two.
That's also a very good sign and as I heave into the toilet each morning--I will remember this thought, I always do, and it does make it easier to take.
But I'm not relishing the knowledge that it's coming.
I'd have a twinge or two already of a sensitive stomach, stemming from that heightened sense of smell and I'm confident that you will make me just as sick as the rest of your siblings.
It's okay, you're worth it.
Holding you close, keeping you safe, loving you already,
Mama
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
3 Weeks, 3 Days
Negative.
Granted, I tested early, earlier than the box stated I could, only a day, but...wouldn't the faintest of lines be there?
Negative.
I am heart-broken.
Granted, I tested early, earlier than the box stated I could, only a day, but...wouldn't the faintest of lines be there?
Negative.
I am heart-broken.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
3 Weeks
This has been an excruciating week for me.
Though I am busy, so very busy with all of your siblings, my mind always circles back to you.
I'm so curious--and yet, I'm enjoying the wait.
It's sort of like Christmas...the build-up is a huge portion of the fun.
Finding out about you is the Christmas Day.
But this, this right here, is part of the giddy, this-is-going-to-be-so-GREAT! beginning.
It's like I'm at December 20.
Only five more days until Christmas.
Maybe.
And it's longer than five days until I know, by the way, though I am looking for signs of you.
If I'm right, and if you're following your blueprint correctly, you have probably found your new little home inside me.
I had some slight cramping yesterday and I wondered...is that you?
Or is it just wishful thinking?
It's a crazy thing, yearning for a pregnancy because the mind seeks what the heart wants proof of.
So if I feel a cramp or a tenderness...I go into Are You There? over-drive.
I'm constantly having to check that for myself.
Because while I say, "are you there?" I realize that I really think you are.
And yet I don't want my hopes dashed.
I've said to Daddy a few times, "I hope it worked."
And by that, I mean the making of you.
Which, by the way, was highly planned.
I'm a planner.
You should know this right away.
I like to plan things.
I don't like surprises and I don't like when things don't go according to plan.
I can roll with the punches for sure, but I like my life nice and tidy.
So here was my logic with you:
First of all, your brother is a maniac.
He's getting better but he's the family monster and I say this endearingly.
I love him to bits but he's not an easy fellow.
The longer we could hold off on you, the more time we'd be able to give him to find and utilize his self-control button.
He's still looking.
But it no longer terrifies me to think of caring for him PLUS an infant.
(That would be you.)
Secondly, the timing was right for you to arrive in the summer.
Since FOREVER, I've wanted a spring baby.
I have one winter, one summer, and two fall.
No spring.
I really wanted spring.
But we missed the boat a little bit.
We weren't totally ready; the conditions weren't right.
This past month, right in the middle of October, would bring you to me in July.
July is a FANTASTIC month for a birthday and I speak of what I know here since I happen to be a June babe (though really just a blink from July).
The summer is perfect for me to relax at home with you.
There's no school.
No sports.
No obligations except watching your siblings play all day and catch lightening bugs at night.
It would give me time to acclimate to the addition of you before stepping off the plank that is autumn.
I'm a bit torn because your due date falls right around your sister's birthday.
I'm not a fan of sharing birthdays.
Only Child Syndrome is what that is.
(Your auntie is 12 years younger than me so I grew up mostly alone and so consider my childhood as an "Only".)
Because since I'm planning you, (we haven't planned all of your siblings--sometimes they just sneak up on us!) I thought I'd really try and plan it the way it works best for the whole family.
Summer baby= bliss
Autumn baby= straight jacket
Sorry to make it sound that way but really.
When September rolls, we have obligations out the ying-yang, followed by two birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, then another sibs birthday.
It's just ALOT.
So hopefully, you're a snug little bug right now and I'm going on endlessly about nothing.
But for sure, we'll shoot to catch you as an August-y if we don't have you already.
I say now that we'll stop trying for the winter months so we don't hit any more fall birthdays but I don't know deep down if I have the self-control for that.
Because while I say I "planned" you this month, it was really out of my control.
I just felt pulled to making you.
It was like I had to and I didn't feel it at all these last couple of months.
The time passed...with nary a peep from my baby-lusting lips.
But this month (and last)...it was so different.
Nothing could have been more important than at least giving you the chance at life right then, at that moment.
I think this is a huge reason why I think you're there.
I think it was your time.
And I was just following your signal.
Loving you already,
Mama
Though I am busy, so very busy with all of your siblings, my mind always circles back to you.
I'm so curious--and yet, I'm enjoying the wait.
It's sort of like Christmas...the build-up is a huge portion of the fun.
Finding out about you is the Christmas Day.
But this, this right here, is part of the giddy, this-is-going-to-be-so-GREAT! beginning.
It's like I'm at December 20.
Only five more days until Christmas.
Maybe.
And it's longer than five days until I know, by the way, though I am looking for signs of you.
If I'm right, and if you're following your blueprint correctly, you have probably found your new little home inside me.
I had some slight cramping yesterday and I wondered...is that you?
Or is it just wishful thinking?
It's a crazy thing, yearning for a pregnancy because the mind seeks what the heart wants proof of.
So if I feel a cramp or a tenderness...I go into Are You There? over-drive.
I'm constantly having to check that for myself.
Because while I say, "are you there?" I realize that I really think you are.
And yet I don't want my hopes dashed.
I've said to Daddy a few times, "I hope it worked."
And by that, I mean the making of you.
Which, by the way, was highly planned.
I'm a planner.
You should know this right away.
I like to plan things.
I don't like surprises and I don't like when things don't go according to plan.
I can roll with the punches for sure, but I like my life nice and tidy.
So here was my logic with you:
First of all, your brother is a maniac.
He's getting better but he's the family monster and I say this endearingly.
I love him to bits but he's not an easy fellow.
The longer we could hold off on you, the more time we'd be able to give him to find and utilize his self-control button.
He's still looking.
But it no longer terrifies me to think of caring for him PLUS an infant.
(That would be you.)
Secondly, the timing was right for you to arrive in the summer.
Since FOREVER, I've wanted a spring baby.
I have one winter, one summer, and two fall.
No spring.
I really wanted spring.
But we missed the boat a little bit.
We weren't totally ready; the conditions weren't right.
This past month, right in the middle of October, would bring you to me in July.
July is a FANTASTIC month for a birthday and I speak of what I know here since I happen to be a June babe (though really just a blink from July).
The summer is perfect for me to relax at home with you.
There's no school.
No sports.
No obligations except watching your siblings play all day and catch lightening bugs at night.
It would give me time to acclimate to the addition of you before stepping off the plank that is autumn.
I'm a bit torn because your due date falls right around your sister's birthday.
I'm not a fan of sharing birthdays.
Only Child Syndrome is what that is.
(Your auntie is 12 years younger than me so I grew up mostly alone and so consider my childhood as an "Only".)
Because since I'm planning you, (we haven't planned all of your siblings--sometimes they just sneak up on us!) I thought I'd really try and plan it the way it works best for the whole family.
Summer baby= bliss
Autumn baby= straight jacket
Sorry to make it sound that way but really.
When September rolls, we have obligations out the ying-yang, followed by two birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, then another sibs birthday.
It's just ALOT.
So hopefully, you're a snug little bug right now and I'm going on endlessly about nothing.
But for sure, we'll shoot to catch you as an August-y if we don't have you already.
I say now that we'll stop trying for the winter months so we don't hit any more fall birthdays but I don't know deep down if I have the self-control for that.
Because while I say I "planned" you this month, it was really out of my control.
I just felt pulled to making you.
It was like I had to and I didn't feel it at all these last couple of months.
The time passed...with nary a peep from my baby-lusting lips.
But this month (and last)...it was so different.
Nothing could have been more important than at least giving you the chance at life right then, at that moment.
I think this is a huge reason why I think you're there.
I think it was your time.
And I was just following your signal.
Loving you already,
Mama
Saturday, October 17, 2009
2 Weeks, 2 Days
Are you there?
I've been thinking about writing this for you for a few days now.
And honestly, it's kind of strange to write for someone that may or may not currently exist.
Let me tell you a little bit about you:
If I'm counting correctly, you're probably just a day or two old.
I'm thinking that probably on or around October 15th, you came to life.
And though it's late and though it's slightly weird to be writing for possibly no reason at all, I want to write for you.
I want you to know what I was thinking and feeling during the days that I wondered about your conception.
Because I don't know:
Are you there?
I keep wondering this.
It pervades my every thought right now.
I'm curious, hopeful, excited, guarded.
I'm just going about my days, knowing that soon I will be privy to your existance.
Or inexistance.
But I think you're there.
So here's the thing.
As it turns out, I can string together a few sentences pretty well.
And I feel like I've been handed the opportunity of a lifetime:
I can write for you, from start to finish.
You will some day be able to look back on these words when you are grown and you will know what it was like for me.
These days of hopeful wonderings.
The agony of the waiting.
(Are you there?)
The Plan B I tell myself in case things don't work out right.
They may not work out right this time but sooner or later, you will be mine.
I'm capable of waiting.
This will eventually be bound into a baby book for you.
"Letters For My Baby."
Or something like that.
I will document this journey for the both of us and I will share it with our family and friends soon after I am positive of your existance. I wanted to start right here and now, and not wait until I know for sure.
Because so much goes on for me, right from the start.
Right from when I know that you are a possibility that I can hope for.
(Are you there?)
I want you to know this most of all:
I love you already.
And I'm thinking about you constantly.
I'm already planning for you.
I'm mentally preparing for the long road ahead.
I will be tired.
I will be sick.
You will be worth it.
And I'll only ask one thing of you:
Please work hard in there.
I need you to grow strong, to stitch yourself together in the most perfect of ways.
You follow your blueprint and I'll follow mine.
Though they are invisible, the plans are unshakable, time-tested, proved durable and life-giving.
Just...grow.
This is the beginning of my pregnancy journal.
My first entry.
I'm crossing my fingers and counting the days--I should know in less than two weeks.
(Little One, that is an ETERNITY.)
Work, baby.
Divide, multiply, grow.
Soon you should find your home inside me.
Find a good spot, snuggle in, and don't move for anything.
Sending you my love, through space and time and wishes and dreams,
Mama
I've been thinking about writing this for you for a few days now.
And honestly, it's kind of strange to write for someone that may or may not currently exist.
Let me tell you a little bit about you:
If I'm counting correctly, you're probably just a day or two old.
I'm thinking that probably on or around October 15th, you came to life.
And though it's late and though it's slightly weird to be writing for possibly no reason at all, I want to write for you.
I want you to know what I was thinking and feeling during the days that I wondered about your conception.
Because I don't know:
Are you there?
I keep wondering this.
It pervades my every thought right now.
I'm curious, hopeful, excited, guarded.
I'm just going about my days, knowing that soon I will be privy to your existance.
Or inexistance.
But I think you're there.
So here's the thing.
As it turns out, I can string together a few sentences pretty well.
And I feel like I've been handed the opportunity of a lifetime:
I can write for you, from start to finish.
You will some day be able to look back on these words when you are grown and you will know what it was like for me.
These days of hopeful wonderings.
The agony of the waiting.
(Are you there?)
The Plan B I tell myself in case things don't work out right.
They may not work out right this time but sooner or later, you will be mine.
I'm capable of waiting.
This will eventually be bound into a baby book for you.
"Letters For My Baby."
Or something like that.
I will document this journey for the both of us and I will share it with our family and friends soon after I am positive of your existance. I wanted to start right here and now, and not wait until I know for sure.
Because so much goes on for me, right from the start.
Right from when I know that you are a possibility that I can hope for.
(Are you there?)
I want you to know this most of all:
I love you already.
And I'm thinking about you constantly.
I'm already planning for you.
I'm mentally preparing for the long road ahead.
I will be tired.
I will be sick.
You will be worth it.
And I'll only ask one thing of you:
Please work hard in there.
I need you to grow strong, to stitch yourself together in the most perfect of ways.
You follow your blueprint and I'll follow mine.
Though they are invisible, the plans are unshakable, time-tested, proved durable and life-giving.
Just...grow.
This is the beginning of my pregnancy journal.
My first entry.
I'm crossing my fingers and counting the days--I should know in less than two weeks.
(Little One, that is an ETERNITY.)
Work, baby.
Divide, multiply, grow.
Soon you should find your home inside me.
Find a good spot, snuggle in, and don't move for anything.
Sending you my love, through space and time and wishes and dreams,
Mama
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