Monday Monday

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Trying out the Squarespace blog app... we’re traveling tomorrow to the US and I won’t be taking my computer with me, but I do want to keep up with blogging. 

This was Mittens this morning. I took a photo of her so I can look at it when I miss her (yup, I know, I’m a sook) and it cracks me up because she’s looking at me like, “Come onnnnn, it’s only a week.” Whatever.  

Dear Baby - Weeks 21/22/23

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(Written last week:)

Dear Baby,

Today we had another ultrasound for you. Your grandma, Mary Jane, your Dad's mom, came with me. We went to the Northside General hospital and saw Julie the student and the other ultrasound tech whose name I forget, the ones who had done our ultrasound two weeks previous, at the Regional Hospital. They had me back in to take pictures of your heart, which right now looks like a flashing black spot on the screen (to me at least - I bet those ultrasound techs can see more than that). The last time we went for an ultrasound, two weeks ago, you were lying with your back to the ultrasound transducer and they couldn't get the pictures they wanted. So today I went back in. I drank 1L of water and lay on the bed with my belly exposed, covered in goopy gel, while the techs moved the transducer, slid and pressed it over my belly to try and see you. Your head was down by my pelvis and your legs were up over you, like up by my belly button. 

Your grandma was very excited - this was her first time in the ultrasound room. She sat by my left side and peeked at the screen, sometimes leaning way over to see it. When I went to the bathroom to pee out some of the water (it's a lot of water to keep in at once!), I came back to hear her telling the techs that she is 72 and this baby has been a long time coming. They congratulated her. We are all very excited to meet you, dear baby. 

It's crazy to me that you are right now inside of me, and that in four months or so you'll be out, in the outside world, a real live human, doing stuff. And that we'll get to meet you and name you, hold you and take care of you. It blows my mind every day. 


(Written yesterday)

Dear Baby... 

I was at work and sitting in Amanda's office at break time, like usual. I was patting my stomach. I'm either at 22 weeks or 23, depending on how you're growing and if you're growing too slowly or if I really am behind a week. I said, "I feel like I've hit a plateau and the baby isn't growing." Amanda said, "When you're at 35-40 weeks you'll be like, 'remember when I was complaining because my belly was small?'" and we both laughed.

I'm at work and I don't want to put in some reporting I have to do. It's tedious. I wonder if, when you are here, and I am off work, if I will miss this? Having an office to go to. Time will tell. 

Katie, who is the secretary at work and who is also pregnant, and at 30 weeks currently, (I find myself hoping you will know her baby and maybe be friends), was telling me that she didn't really "pop" until 26 weeks. And that now she really feels she has a belly! I guess I had better get on that maternity coat I've been thinking of buying... the air is getting cooler and my current coats are starting to strain over my belly. Over you. It won't be long now til you grow bigger and I will need a coat that fits.

Tonight I went for a walk. It occurs to me every now and then that I take you with me everywhere I go. To the bathroom! To the grocery store! You are there. Megan (the other pregnant lady at work - she is a month or so behind me in gestation time, and I hope you also know her baby in the years to come) has already had one child and she says that once the baby is born, it feels a little sad to no longer have another being with you always. I wonder at what that will feel like. 

I wonder so much these days. Both in the sense of awe at what is happening within my body, but also in the sense of imagining what is in the future and what has not yet happened. Who will you be? How will your arrival change my life, change your father's and my life? And I am in awe, too, at how funny life is. How for years, your father and I went back and forth about whether or not to even try to make a baby, whether or not we wanted to have kids, and how once we did start trying, BAM, right away you came. It feels sudden. But in a way it is not.

Well, I had better wrap this up, and save some thoughts for later. Keep growing, and moving, and being, in there, dear baby. 

-Your mama

the answers

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(I don't have any, or I have fragments of them.) 

But I ask myself lots of questions. (Mostly about whether or not something is OK, it seems.)

Is it OK to not really use Facebook much anymore? To not care about the News Feed? 

(Yes.)

And then, related - is it OK to pivot, to change, to evolve? (Because I used to be a heavy Facebook user. Like, heavy.)

(Yes.)

Is it OK to do what I want? (And not do it purely for money, or for SEO, or for clicks and likes, or for what my Ideal Client wants?)

(Yes.)

Is it OK to share that journey? (And be vulnerable?)

(Yes.)

Is it OK to make my own way?

(Yes.)


What I miss:

  • Connecting with other people through words, through the Internet. Seeing their world through their eyes. And showing them mine, through mine. Instagram does a good job of this these days, but. But. (But what?) Blogging just seems like my first love. A deeper place. A something different. A slower place. 
  • That time by myself to write. And then to share. 
  • Bulleted lists, haha.

So an idea comes to me, somewhere between yesterday and today. To write, every day, for the next 20 or so days. And not to tell anyone, or to post "New blog post up now!" on Instagram, or anything like that. Not to draw attention to it. Just to nurture this little space, my little words. My little hunch, that this is something I need to do again. 

OK, alright. I can do that.