Monday, November 29, 2010

One Week

Dear Baby,
I am officially ready to meet you.  I want to be able to name you and hold you instead of just having you taunt me at your arrival.  I guess it means you will fit into this family well.  As I was talking to your dad the other day I finally admitted how scared I am.  When you are trying for a baby you are thinking about the excitement of life, the cuteness of babies.  Then, apparently when you are a week out from delivery (again, anytime is JUST FINE), you realize what having a baby actually means.  Or you think you know.  The only thing I know is that I really have no idea.  But I will learn. 

I thought I'd go ahead and tell you what you will be coming home to.  First, a house that isn't quite ready.  We moved recently and haven't completely finished getting it ready.  But you will have somewhere to sleep, food to eat and diapers so I'm not sure you will know the difference.  Your room gets the best sunlight so I will probably be in there more than you would like.  So far everyone likes to be in your room.  Here is proof.

Calabash is the cat.  I can't say for sure if you will like her or vice versa.  She is very old and quite odd.  She kind of runs the house.  She is your dad's cat.

Lucy is the yellow dog.  She will love you...she loves everyone.  She hates loud noises.  Just trust me on that.  She will probably sleep in your room every night and protect you.  Fiercely loyal and loving, she will be your best friend as you grow up.  She isn't sorry for all the hair she leaves around the house.

Maddie is the brown dog.  She will like that you will drop food.  Until that point she will probably be indifferent to you.  Unless you serve a purpose for her, she lets you know you have no purpose.  Don't try and take one of her toys and you should be just fine. 

Your daddy.  He will be the one with a deep voice and dark hair.  He is pretty freaking cute too.  I imagine if there is someone changing your diaper and gagging at the same time, it may be him.  He will no doubt spoil you.  If you are a girl he will be the one wrapped around your finger.  Please do not use this to your advantage.  If you are a boy he will be the one to teach you everything important in life.  He will sing to you and play guitar (both ways that mommy fell for him).  He will be your constant, your strength.

Your mommy.  I don't really know what to say about me.  I'm sure I'll be the one with the food for awhile.  And the one that cries at movies.  But I hope I'm the one that makes you feel better when you are sick.  I hope I'm the one that is the first person you want when there is a nightmare, or when the cat freaks you out as she often does to me.  I hope I'm the one that makes you feel safe.  If you are a girl, I hope I'm the one that you admire.  If you are a boy, I hope I'm the one that always supports your choices in all things, even your future wife. 

As a whole, we are your family.  Your dad and I will teach you to love God, to love others, and finally, yourself.  Your dad and I will hopefully be a testament to marriage and give you an idea of what love is.  We will fail at all things at some point, but I hope we are the ones that teach you to fail with grace and dignity. 

Waiting (im)patiently,

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Is Closer Better?

It's getting closer.  I can tell.  And it really scares me.  I'm having lots of contractions (always hurt at night...thanks a ton).  Pressure in all the right (or wrong) places, babies head in position.  Now all I have to do is wait.  And anyone that knows me knows I don't do that well. 

I would of course be due around a major holiday, so the doula we've hired is going out of town.  We have a back up, but it isn't the same.  The back up won't pray with us, we don't have the same connection, etc.  So I hope to either go before she leaves, which would essentially be this weekend, or after she returns, which doesn't sound much better.

We've also decided to do a water birth.  Women's hospital will allow them now and my midwives are on board.  Let's hope baby is. 

My house is a wreck, my china cabinet still isn't unpacked and work is crazy.  Part of me knows none of that matters, but I hate that it is in the back of my head. 

And I'm scared to death about PPD.  Can I handle the stress of a newborn?  Can I be a good enough mom?  Will I ever measure up?  You know, just everyday questions...

Friday, November 12, 2010

Letters (the snail mail kind)

I'm reading a book right now that actually made me laugh out loud.  That doesn't happen often.  Usually my laughing out loud comes at the hand of "America's Funniest Home Videos".  I have memories of talking to my mom on the phone while we were both watching that show and laughing hysterically.  When I need a pick me up, it's my go-to show.

But this book in intriguing.  It is completely made up of letters to and from its characters.  It was frustrating at first, but now I love it.  It's almost as if the characters let you in, but only so much because how much can you tell about a person from a letter since it is void of conversation and emotions (that can be seen or described in literature)?  And maybe that is why I like it.  It reminds me of myself. 

Brad and I watched a movie recently that was recommended:  Waitress.  While the acting and story line were good, I don't think I can actually recommend it to anyone.  It doesn't have the best moral story.  However, I've been a Keri Russell fan since Felicity and if I had any bravery at all I would cut my hair off in the hopes of having it grow back and look like hers.  But I digress.  In the movie she is having a baby that she doesn't want.  But she starts to write the child letters.  They change depending on the events of her life at the time.  Some are apologetic for not wanting it, some are mad for the child making her stay in a bad marriage, some are hopeful of what will come.  But all are from the heart.  The movie made me cry at one point because it told the child what she hoped for it.  And it wasn't about having riches or happiness even.  It was about having love.  The kind where someone will hug you for 20 minutes and not say anything, just because they know you need it even thought their arms have long since fallen asleep and they really need a drink of water kind of love. 

I wonder what I would write to my unborn child if I could.  It is safe to say that I've run the whole spectrum of emotions during this pregnancy.  And I imagine that will be the case after birth as well.  And maybe it's fair for them to know as much as possible about life and all that comes with it.  But maybe it's better for them to find out on their own too.  Make their own life.  Make their own memories.  But maybe it can't hurt to give them a head start.  Here is my first letter:

Dear Baby:

Life is tough, but you will survive, I promise.  And you will be better for it.  Take the good with the bad and love each the same for they happen for a reason.  And I'm sorry for all the mistakes I will make and all the therapy bills you will probably  have.  I promise to have good insurance for you.  And I love you.  Even though I haven't met you., and more than you can imagine.