Time goes by

Dear Big Boy Brellowfish,
Because you won't let me call you "baby" anymore.  You will be 39 months, soon, and yes, I still think of your age in months.  We've had a few struggles the past few months.  Things haven't been in sync, and then your last vaccine, the reaction you had changed you for a few weeks.  I was afraid, despite all the new research showing that autism wasn't caused by vaccines, maybe...what if...

We've been so conservative, so careful.





But after some time, you were back to your fun, socially cautious self.  I love you, and you are amazing.

Love you,
Mama

I should start writing here again

Because everyday is something new with you, and I don't seem to make it to the handwritten journal, these days.

I love you, Alexander.  Toddler, now!  I can't believe it...

Baby

4/28/2009



Baby, you're here...we're with you.

Baby, you're here...we're in love with you!


Visitors, thank you.

Dancing Baby

Last night, I sang and sang to you because it just felt right. Lo and behold, you started to dance in my belly! I stopped singing, you stopped moving. I started singing, and there you went, again!

We've had some quiet, garden days, haven't we? I've stopped listening to people's advice on how to make you "come out" sooner, faster, induce labor...you will know when you're ready. All that I might have missed had I kept sitting around, just waiting...we're still participating with each other!

Love you so much, and dad...oh, dad has so many plans for you. Many which involve lots of exasperated sighs and eye-rolling from mom. But all good fun--I can't wait to see what kind of buddies you turn out to be!

36-37 Weeks

You've dropped, lots of false labor...any time now, eh, little Brellow?

They say that the closer to the due date, the less movement. Well, little man, you certainly have proven them wrong! And, we know that you really, really don't like having your heartbeat listened to--the nurse last week said you were ornery. I love it. Are you already aware? Certainly, I hope to not train out of you the immediate expression of your feelings on things. Beautiful baby. My little fish.

Dad has been murmuring the promise of sandwiches to you in the evening. You and your dad, sitting together, munching and having a talk about your day. I look forward to that, my guy.

Our guy! Soon, dad will be able to hold you, as well!

We're at 34 weeks, baby...

Little one...

We made it to 34 weeks! They say you have a 99% chance of surviving if born, now! And you're moving so much...I feel you with me, always. Even the painful moments...I don't mind.

Soon, you're kicking right now! Soon...

I can't wait to bundle you up, diaper you, sniff you...I can't wait to see you holding hands with dad, sleeping...

Take your time, but we both know time inside is coming to an end, don't we?
My little fish...you're now a BrellowBoy!

Dear Baby!

I write to you, little Baby B, but it seems more and more I write to you in my journal, and not here...

Is it because holding a pen feels more intimate than typing in between emails? You've been kicking so much, lately--I'm so aware of your presence that we have lots of audible conversations. Lucky that dad doesn't think (or expresses aloud) how crazy this might be, but I have no doubt that I am not alone in this, pregnancy-wise. How could anyone NOT talk back? (Kick) "yeah, mom--that was a good sandwich! (Kick) "Where's my drink? I'm thirsty!" How I interpret your kicks is not unlike a magic 8-ball. It depends on my mood.

The weather has warmed up quite a bit, and you really enjoyed our time outdoors yesterday! Mama's back is just killing her, but we managed some time in the lawn chair, sunbathing in that 70-degree weather, didn't we?

Soon, you can see all this for yourself, as well as the little ladybugs we've been hosteling in a jar with apple peels. They are a bit too eager for spring, but when you arrive, we'll release them together. How does that sound?

We're together, still, my Little Brellowfish!

29/30 weeks? I can't believe it--the end of our journey, nested the way you are inside of me...we are closer to the end than we are to the beginning at this point. Where did the time go? After 36 weeks, any labor that starts will be allowed to continue. That sounds so official! 35 weeks and 6 days, no dice. But 36 weeks...

Take your time, little Brellowfish...we can't wait to smell your hair, kiss your wee feet, whisper secrets. Dad has undoubtedly already impressed you a great deal--your kicks are most enthusiastic when he's around! That said, take your time. Take the time you need in order to be a healthy little Fish when you emerge. The discomfort is nothing, truly. Don't worry one whit about any of that--just be you and what you need.

Love,
Us

Dear Brellowfish, at 28 Weeks...

Oh, an early morning, just you and me, little fish. Your Dad had a tough weekend, and he slumbers away, which makes me glad. The house feels so good! It always feels good to be home, but the quiet time feels extra-special today.

I worked into late last night--a bit naughty, staying up until 2am, but I do that, little Brellowfish. Mama is a bit intense, sometimes--very focused. But the entire time I worked, I was aware of your presence. You refused to be ignored! You've been active and kicking for some time, now, but seeing it expressed through my belly is still amazing to me. After I went to bed, finally, you were still kicking up a storm. I put my hands on my stomach and gently pressed back. And you responded in kind...kick! Kick!

Sometime after 32 weeks, the midwife said that Dad may be able to hear your heartbeat using a toilet paper tube. For fun, he tried, yesterday. No heartbeat, but when he removed the tube and put his ear to my belly, there you were, again! Kicking, as if to say, "Yes, I know you're out there! I can't wait!" Or maybe, "Hey, this is MY space!"

Who knows--you'll have to tell us, sometime. My gosh, we can't wait to meet you.

Love,
Mom and Dad

A New Year

A new president, a new person...I hope you are well, Little Baby B. Our Brellowfish.

The holidays were stressful, and you let me know by kicking and hiccuping through most of the festivities. That, combined with back spasms from standing too long, talking to people I didn't know and missing out on good family time made for one grouchy mama. I was asked afterwards, after all the gifts, "Wasn't it worth it?"

I have to say, my little guy, that at some point in your life, you might think your mama is a bit odd. Can you put a pricetag on quality time with family? I'm so, so happy for you to have all these lovely things, but you were so fortunate to have plenty to begin with--all those lovely pre-loved items, already well washed, softened from use...and if we had to worry about dyes and chemicals in cloth, hopefully most of those are gone, too! You had plenty before, and have plenty, now. I know Dad and I will find a way to put those giftcards to good use, but I wonder about how much money was spent on food. On how much I had to spend on a chiropractor to set everything straight (no Target giftcard for that!), on how little time we had with the Big Family (you will meet them, no doubt!), on how the money and time spent on food probably equated to the amount we received in gifts, on how stressed I might have made you, with my holiday tiredness.

I wish I had the personality to have handled all this better, My Little Guy, but mama's personality was not a consideration, so it all has to be appreciated in retrospect. I'll feel better after the next prenatal exam, when they tell me you are right on target. I love you so much...

Me.

26 weeks

25 Weeks

This little light of mine...

My Dear Baby,
My Third Point in My Universe...

This photo is of the full moon, the closest it has been to earth in 15 years. As a moon in general, that is.

The next time this happens, you'll be 7 years old. It will be November. You might see your breath if we're outside, viewing it. It might be cold. At any rate, I hope I remember this event in 8 years...

And maybe I'll be able to hold your hand for a moment while we look, before your dad fascinates you with the inner workings of a telescope.

Love you, my guy--

24 Weeks

Dear Little One at 23 Weeks

Hi there, my little guy. I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Actually, I'm always thinking about you--I wonder if your dad is tired of my knowing looks, my secret smiles, holding my belly and talking to you. But this week really marks the start of not being able to ignore you. On Sunday morning, after I rolled onto my back for a moment to stretch, your little foot or arm kicked out so hard you made the band of my pajama pants jump. Yay for you!

This is just me being me, but I hope you don't mind being this loved. I know, someday a hug from your mom and all those kisses will be something you duck away from when you're older. But. How lucky am I to have you these first years...how many years before you decide that all this adoration is a hindrance to your manliness? I will try not to count down the days in my head, and cherish each moment, each sniff of your baby head, chubby little toddler hands helping me roll dough to make bread. Little feet padding down the hall to find daddy. Oh, I'm already so teary-eyed just thinking about it. But I am so amazed to love this much.

Mommy

22 Weeks

22 Weeks, originally uploaded by This Wee Life.

See, here? You kicked so hard this morning, I could see the band of my pants move! I waited for you to do it again, and sure enough--you did!

You dad hasn't been sleeping well, lately, so I thought, should I wake him up? Well, of course I should. So I did, and well...you little stinker. You swam to the back of my uterus and hid there, kicking still, but out of reach from your father (oh, you sneaky smart one!).

22 weeks...you can hear fairly well, now. Maybe you will listen as we sing Happy Birthday to Daddy on Tuesday. What do you say? Are you up for some Korean food and chocolate cake?

21 Weeks

Week 21, originally uploaded by This Wee Life.

My Dear Little Guy,

Someone said that I wasn't gaining enough baby weight.

I beg to differ--you are doing a marvelous job enlarging your habitat and making space. Keep up the good work!

Love,
Mom and Dad

Now, we have to chat about this Food-Thing

I know, I know...it's week 21 and we are starving. But really, the room you take up--I am not sure where the impression of pregnant women tearing through a buffet came from, but I feel a bit cheated when we go out for Indian food. At any rate, the amount of Indian food I'm eating during this pregnancy ensures us that you will be not a creamy brown/yellow color, but rather, a nice turmeric hue!

Sometimes I won't be enough...

I can't explain how my brain works, little Brellowfish, but for whatever reason, I have these flashes of you in my head--scenarios where you need me, or need something that I can't give you. One involves your Dad convincing you to beg for macaroni and cheese with mustard (tsk tsk--shame on your father). The most recent one is consoling you over your first broken heart. Oh dear...and my own broken heart because I just love you so much. But there is always going to be some pain in your life, no matter what I do, and of course, I know that when you're a teenager, you won't want to confide in mom, and even if you did, nothing I say will be able to fix it. So. If you're reading this many years later, my little guy, some advice from M. Ward that might be more consoling than a hug from your own mom, because that is just how it is sometimes:




I sailed a wild, wild sea
climbed up a tall, tall mountain
I met a old, old man
beneath a weeping willow tree
He said now if you got some questions
go and lay them at my feet
but my time here is brief
so you'll have to pick just three

And I said
What do you do with the pieces of a broken heart
and how can a man like me remain in the light
and if life is really as short as they say
then why is the night so long
and then the sun went down
and he sang for me this song

See I once was a young fool like you
afraid to do the things
that I knew I had to do
So I played an escapade just like you
I played an escapade just like you
I sailed a wild, wild sea
climbed up a tall, tall mountain
I met an old, old man
he sat beneath a sapling tree
He said now if you got some questions
go and lay them at my feet
but my time here is brief
so you'll have to pick just three

And I said
What do you do with the pieces of a broken heart
and how can a man like me remain in the light
and if life is really as short as they say
then why is the night so long
and then the sun went down
and he played for me this song

I saw you!

Oh, my little fish...I saw you! AND, I now know you aren't going to be another brown girl, as Dad and I often thought. You're going to be a VikaPino! We are thrilled beyond belief, and somehow, that small knowledge has inspired me to start on your bedroom, even though you'll be with us the first year. For some reason, I didn't feel the draw to this whole nursery decorating business...now I'm researching, and I hope you love it.

Oh, and if for some reason, when you're 4 and suddenly aware of your power to change things, you decide you want something different, no worries. Mama will be happy to slop paint on the walls with you.

Love you, little fish. Love you so, so much...