Firstly, we saw our baby and heard his/her heartbeat last Wednesday. It is odd; with DD I “new” so much about her right away: I knew I was pregnant before I was late, I knew she was a girl as soon as that stick had two lines instead of one, I knew she would come early, and I was fairly confidant she would be a lefty. When I went into labor a month early it did not even occur to me to be worried about it--I knew (in the way that a mother has intuition about these things) that I could trust myself and her and it would all be okay.
This time I know nothing. I had none of the early signs I had with DD (that I did not know were early signs at the time). In fact I can still drink coffee and stay up till midnight (with DD both things were impossible). Boy? Girl? DD has been praying for a girl for months, and she only wants a girl, but as for me “knowing”--not at all.
All this to say, hearing the heartbeat, and especially seeing that little sprouted-lima bean who will be my kid, made it all so very *real*. It went from being a knowledge I carried in my head to one that had meandered down to my heart. DD was a fanatic excitement. This one is a comfortable knowledge. I am not excited, I am not sad, I am not much of any extreme in emotion: I just am. Perhaps this comes from *knowing* what I am getting myself into! The amazing over-the-moon things and the terrible suck-y I-just-want-to-quit things.
All this pregnancy stuff has made me crazy tired, crazy spacey, and crazy homesick. Crazy homesick. I’m feeling all nest-y, and nothing about our apartment is nest-inducing. So we tried to look for a new home-base. Ugh. Awful. Tiring, time-consuming, and frustrating. On the up-side, seeing the other nasty dumps we could afford (in not so awesome neighborhoods) made me have a whole new appreciation for where we live. It may look like dusk during a thunderstorm all day long in our current apartment, but at least I don’t think the place will collapse on me, it is not nasty, and the neighborhood we live in seriously cannot be beat. Maybe I will need to get a sun lamp or take up fake-baking for the winter in order to stave off depression. Lots of vitamin D supplements. Daily required walks, no matter how cold. Something.
I miss my sister. One more month until she comes for Thanksgiving. I think I can make it until then.
DD had her first ballet lesson! You should have seen all of us nutty parents! You would think all of our three-year-olds were graduating from medical school! The videos being recorded! The pictures being taken! The dads and moms taking time off of work to see them! It really was absurdly cute, all these little girls in their full ballerina regalia, so excited to begin that they were literally hopping in anticipation. I didn’t know it was a drop-off class, so that was a bummer (we wanted to watch, and DH took off work for the occasion), and I was afraid that DD would have a difficult time *listening* and *following directions.* But from what I could see when I peered through the tiny window into the room (I didn’t have anything better to do; next time I will bring a book or something) they were having a blast and DD was doing quite well for herself. As her auntie says, she has the music in her, and it is true.
We also had a house-guest, which, as always, is wonderful and exhausting. This was especially good for DH as it was his BFF, and his current job schedule leaves little time for meeting new people and building new relationships from scratch. We had a great time but are now left to get our equilibrium back. My writing habit is gone to pot and must be resurrected, along with nap times (so that I can do said writing).
On a sad note, I have received quite a bit of very upsetting news from friends this week. One college friend lost his wife several weeks after the birth of their baby, leaving him to father two tiny babies (one adopted) alone. My heart broke at the news and I have been praying for those three several times per day. Any time I think of one of my babies or my husband I am nearly in tears for him.
Another couple friend of ours just suffered a still-birth. Damn.
I cannot conceive the pain of these losses, and I beg for God’s healing, wisdom, comfort, protection, and love, and love, and grace, and mercy, and comfort.
I know that this kind of pain does not just go away, nor should anyone expect it to. But I do know that it is much better to cry surrounded by strong, loving arms than to cry alone. And that is what I pray for for these families: that they will feel the strong, loving arms around them, and that they will be free to cry.
All this death surrounding birth gives a pregnant lady a lot to ponder.
