Dear Baby A,

Today we've made it to 30 weeks of sharing the same body. I can't believe that in 10-ish weeks you'll be an outside-baby!! This middle part of the pregnancy has sped up for sure. I clearly remember the early days - freaking out about any little twinge or "down-there" issue. I remember the long waits between doctor appointments when I would worry that we wouldn't find a heartbeat.

And then you started kicking. And you really haven't stopped!! In the past few weeks, you move in spurts - for a few days you'll be chillin most of the time, and then the next few days you'll be freaking out in there all day (and night) long. It makes me wonder if you'll inherit my Gemini-esque dual-naturedness. The one thing that I love about your kicking and rolling and moving is that it relaxes me. I never have to worry about whether something is going wrong in there, because the second I do you remind me that you are discovering all of my internal organs with your feet.

It's hard to imagine what life will be like once you're here. And I've heard that once you are born, it's hard to imagine what life was like before you were here. I feel caught in the middle somewhere, on the verge of knowing some really cool secret. It's the true definition of anticipation. I already know you, but I can't wait to meet you, little man!

Love,
Mom

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.

Dear baby A,

First things first, feeling you kick/punch/headbutt my cervix (as I type this, I might add) is by far the weirdest sensation I've ever felt. I much prefer it when you kick/punch/headbutt my tummy. Please take note and return to a more comfortable position. Thanks a mil!

Ok, while I wait for you to listen to me (haha), I'd like to get you prepared for you first airplane ride. We're headed to the Land of 10,000 Lakes tomorrow to visit your grandparents, cousin, and some of Mom's friends. In fact, they are throwing a nice little party in your honor. How lucky you are to already be loved and be having parties!

We got to see you last week again, and it was probably the last time for a while. It's hard to know that I won't have visible confirmation of you for months now, but it's nice that I can feel you everyday (and usually you stay away from my cervix). Your Dad is very anxious to feel you too, so anytime you'd like to throw a good hard kick/punch/headbutt my way, let me know and I'll grab him to feel. He's started talking to you almost nightly now - in his weird B-Dad voice. You never move when he's talking, but I think it's because you're wondering "what the heck is that voice?" I'm pretty sure you'll come to enjoy his B-Dad voice and probably prefer it my M-Mom voice.

I must end this note by thanking you a million times over for refraining for kicking/punching/headbutting my cervix for the last 5 minutes.
Love,
Mom

Baby Personality

Last night, B and I got to talking about Baby boy A and his "personality." B was arguing that he won't have a personality until at least a month after his birth, while I was suggesting that he will be born with a temperament that will lead into his expressed personality. This might be one of those semantic debates, but it got me thinking about Baby boy A's personality and who he'll become.

Will he be anxious about getting things done on Saturday morning (like his mom) or prefer to laze around for hours and do things in the afternoon (like his dad)?

Will he enjoy building things (like his dad) or analyzing himself and other people (like his mom)?

Will he like bananas (like his mom) or not (like his dad)?

So many questions, so many wonders, and so many years ahead to discover the answers. I just hope that my busy Saturday mornings don't get in the way of these discoveries of Baby boy A's personality.

And to end with a fun quote I saw today:
Babies are such a nice way to start people. ~Don Herold
(Humor...now I KNOW Baby boy A will get that!)