i carry your heart

I heard President Obama on TV the other day giving a speech about being a parent. He quoted the familiar line about how having a child is forever having your heart walk around outside your body. It struck me (because, who am I kidding, my obsession with Baby A's heart is obvious from this blog) in lots of ways. The realization that Baby A will soon be walking around outside my body is still a weird thought at this point.

It's obvious as well that I've had mixed (yet normal, I think) feelings about this whole pregnancy journey thing. I've had many instances of realizing that my body is no longer mine and that Baby A will literally use up all the good stuff before I even get any if I let him! But I now understand, too, how some women miss being pregnant; miss the symbiotic, protective, unique relationship you can have only as a mother. No one else in this whole wide world will EVER be able to house Baby A for these 9ish months. I alone am given that privilege.

I will be the first and only one to literally carry his heart in my body. All 4 beating little chambers.

And after I help Baby A come into the world, I'll go back to just having my own heart inside my body. This new heart that I've helped grow - half mine, half B's, fully Baby A - it will go on walking around in the world. And like so many other mothers, I imagine there will be pangs of sadness, loss interspersed with the overwhelming joy and excitement.

So today, I'll let up on the fat comments and frustrations of wearing a tent. Today I'll enjoy the limited experience of holding Baby A's heart because all too soon he'll be out in the world, walking around with it.

Dear Baby A

Oh my little boy, you sure are active these days!! There have been a few times when I've wondered what in the heck could possibly be going on in there given the amount, intensity, and randomness of movement I feel (and see!)!

Today we reached a fun milestone - 99 days(ish) until you arrive. We're into double digits little man!! Tomorrow will be officially 26 weeks down and that just seems entirely impossible. Where did the time go?

I find myself getting more and more excited lately. I'm excited to meet you and hold you and love on you with kisses and nose-rubs and head-rubs. I think your dad is getting excited too...sometimes at night he'll ask what you're doing in there and when you're going to come out and play. I can't wait for you to meet him; he really is a pretty cool guy!

I hope you are nice and cozy in there little jumping bean - I need all of the 90-ish days left to get ready for your arrival. But oh when it comes, I'll be here to greet you with wide open arms. And a wide open heart.

Love,
Mom

Dear Baby A

Happy 24 weeks to you! I'm especially excited about this milestone, because all the books and interwebs tell me that after 24 weeks, if you decide to make a grand entrance there is a better than 50% chance that you will be a happy, healthy little boy! But here me out, son, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING OUT YET. okthanks :)

I haven't written to you in a while because I've been scared, I think. I'm scared that I won't be a good mom. I'm scared that there will be days when I wish I could just have peace and quiet and no responsibility. I'm scared that I'll do something wrong - I'll be too loving or too disciplined or too something! I'm scared about what I'll have to give up to take care of you. I'm scared of how your arrival will change my marriage. I'm scared that if, one day, you read these letters and entries you'll judge me harshly or worse, that you'll question my love for you.

I feel like I must write this though, even in the off chance you do happen upon it sometime in the distant future. I must write it because it's honest. And besides teaching you that love is above all the most important thing in life, I hope to teach you that honesty is a very close second.

I hope too that my honesty about my fears will highlight that there are always two sides to every coin; that along with sunshine and rainbows there are clouds and storms. And perhaps most importantly, without the clouds and storms we couldn't enjoy the sunshine and rainbows nearly in the same degree. Am I scared about your arrival? Without a doubt. Am I equally excited and giddy about your arrival? Like a kid in a candy store. I can't wait to see the little hands and feet that are constantly banging around in my tummy. I can't wait to look into your eyes and kiss your tiny cheeks. I can't wait to love you in the flesh.

And rest assured, my little man, that even though I can be scared at times, I loved you from before you even had hands and feet and eyes and cheeks - when you were just a tiny little heart thumping away. And that I have fears only demonstrates how honestly, how deeply I love you.

Love,
Mom

Glow-Happy I am not

So much has happened since I last wrote. I realize now why I had trouble keeping a consistent journal! Sheesh!

Although I must be totally honest, here in my personal corner of the interwebs, and admit that part of why this blog has been hard for me to keep up is that I've set up false expectations of it and of myself. When I first started I had the intention of recording all of my excitement and Baby boy A's milestones during this pregnancy. So far I've done pretty good on this front. Except for one thing.

I haven't felt that pregnant-glow-happy-one-with-my-body-love lately. Yesterday, I hit the maternity store desperate for a new bra (just one would have been lovely) that fit my ever expanding chest-area. No such luck for me. I was so disheartened I nearly cried...in the dressing room...over my boobs. I was that pregnant-emotional-why-is-this-happening-to-my-body lady. I held back the tears but decided to make myself feel better by picking up a swimsuit (ha...hahaha). Again, no such luck, mainly due to the pregnant boob issue. I ended up spending 2 hours and $150 (on clothes) and leaving feeling ugly, only to get home and discover 2 new white head zits. Seriously.

It's hard for me to write this (although also very cathartic) because I never thought I'd have such a hard time with my body at this stage in my pregnancy. I can remember during most of the first trimester just wanting and craving a little baby bump so that the whole wide world would know that I had this superpower of growing a human. And for the most part, I'm ok with my now very obvious baby bump. But the two bumps above it are driving me up the wall!! And don't get me started on the teenage-boy acne.

All of this is to say, I'm feeling disillusioned at the moment. Pregnancy is (or can be) beautiful and exciting and wonderful and awe-inspiring. I still have those moments (like when I start to worry and think to Baby boy A "ok kick me so I know you're fine in there" and then he does! That rocks my face off!). But in the past few days, and really since starting this blog, it's been hard for me to say out loud that there are things I don't like about it and that it isn't always pretty and I don't feel like a sexy pregnant woman. I feel huge and ugly.

I guess this is the start of being real with myself and with Baby boy A. As much as I'd love to be that pregnant-glow-happye-one-with-my-body woman, I'm just not all the time. Nor will all the expectations I have for Baby boy A become reality. But at least I'll really know what he's going through if he ever hits that awkward-teenage-boy-with-acne-and-braces phase.