Sunday, April 26, 2009

Blizzards and Sunshine - Together at Last!

Hi There Munchkin!

I'm just sitting here having enjoyed a lovely and warm Sunday, thinking of you. This weekend was absolutely gorgeous. That warmness that you would have felt radiating through me and the accompanying bright light is something called 'sunshine.' It has been sparse since you've been in there cooking and your Dad and I have really been missing it. My otherwise pasty skin has now taken on a rosy glow (read: burn) while your Dad turned a lovely shade of brown almost the very second that the sun hit his skin. I hope that you take on this quality and are not subjected to a series of burns while wearing SPF 30 religiously like myself. I am not sure which is doing me more detriment - the burns or all of the chemicals needed to create SPF 30, but I digress ...

Today we took the top two panels off of my Jeep in order to meet your Pa, Nikki and the family in Windsor for a lovely buffet brunch. Buffets for a pregnant woman are akin to finding a pool of water in a desert. It was heaven! There were so many delicious options but so little time (and limited stomach capacity) to enjoy. It is not socially acceptable, I've been told, to just pull up a chair at a buffet station and dig in, so I had to resign myself to various covert missions where I would pile on the food but hide some of it under bread or vegetables. 'Oh, I just wanted a touch more broccoli (cough *with another slice of lasagna underneath*cough).' I wasn't too full, however, to forgo my daily ice cream when I got home. Rituals are rituals. Like brushing one's teeth or taking a multivitamin for example. Plus you seem to enjoy the ice cream. I returned to work the other day from lunch and you were kicking up a storm so I remarked to my colleague 'The baby is incredibly active right now! He's flipping and flopping everywhere!' to which she asked (almost accusingly I must say) 'and what did HE have for lunch??' I should have lied and said 'a grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side' but I didn't. I am a horrible liar and get all splotchy and spluttery when in the midst of lying so it is just not worth it. 'A Blizzard' I replied honestly. I received a look of judgement as a result. Ah well, I refuse to feel guilty. Someday you will experience the Dairy Queen Blizzard ... mmmmm ... Blizzards .... ice cream, chocolate syrup and cut up peanut butter cups living together in perfect harmony .... OR you can have Smarties, or oreos or Skor or cookie dough or .... mmmmmmm .... It's all very very good.

Your dad was able to feel a little movement the other day, you were once again doing your thrice daily acrobatic ritual, and he put his hand on my tummy and was able to distinguish when it was actually you and not just random stomach movements. Soon enough we will get to see you move quite vividly from the outside. We can't wait! Tommorrow I got to my monthly visit with Dr. Wavy-Eyes where I will pee in a cup, get weighed and get poked and prodded. After being pregnant for awhile, none of these otherwise embarassing events phase you in the least. The reward is generally the same - getting to hear your little heartbeat!

Physically I continue to feel like a million bucks though I am generally up during the night for something or other (food, pee break) and find it difficult to get back to sleep. I am not upset about this and in fact, think that it is great practice for when you are actually here and up every two hours for the first little while. I should be an old pro by then. I *think* that I look pretty good. Your Dad always tells me how gorgeous I look and how I haven't gained weight anywhere except my tummy and bosoms - I know that he is a big fat liar (and surprisingly a good one at that!) - but I really appreciate his words of encouragement. I feel bad for him. My once-cute undergarments have now turned into industrial strength bras and granny underwear. It must take extreme self-control to not physically recoil when he walks in on me dressing. He's a trooper. On the bright side, I think that all of this heavy material from chest to thigh would save me (and you) in the case of a drive-by shooting. I have a feeling it is basically bullet-proof.

Emotionally I am all over the place. Your Dad and I are so excited to meet you and we spend hours daydreaming about what it will be like when you are finally here. We talk about what you might look like, what kind of personality you might develop, the traits that we hope you retain from each of us and the others we hope don't get passed on (i.e - my ability to lose important travel documents immediately before leaving). I am so content in this pregnancy and have been so blessed to feel so great. I (and you!) am also fortunate to be surrounded by love and support everywhere I go; work, home, with family and friends. But I miss my mom. I wish she were here to experience this time with me. Outwardly I remain positive and find myself saying things like 'I know she's taking care of us from heaven,' but it's not the same. And, quite frankly, it sucks. They say that time heals all wounds but I'm afraid that it doesn't really. Yes, some days hurt less but there are others where I feel like it is November 19th 2007 all over again. Time just allows distance from the event and the development of coping skills. So my little munchkin, I hope you understand why there are days where I laugh until my stomach hurts and moments when I cry to the same effect. I know that ultimately everything will be great and I will be fine. I also know that your arrival will bring so much happiness and excitement that this hole in my heart will begin filling. No pressure on you though! This, by all accounts, happens naturally :)

Well my dearest little boy, I am going to get going. I need to peel off these ginormous undergarments and get my jammies on, it is already 8:16pm! (Oh, I am back into the in-bed-by-9 phase).

Thinking of you always. The song below really resonates with me these days.
Love you,


From 'Blessed' by Elton John

Hey you, you're a child in my head
You haven't walked yet
Your first words have yet to be said
But I swear you'll be blessed

I know you're still just a dream
your eyes might be green
Or the bluest that I've ever seen
Anyway you'll be blessed

And you, you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky
Pull your name from a hat
I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that
You'll be blessed

I need you before I'm too old
To have and to hold
To walk with you and watch you grow
And know that you're blessed

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Longest. Pregnancy. Ever.

Hey babe, how's it going in there? You alright? You're moving around a lot down there. Flipping and flopping, heads and tails, squirming about. Trying to get comfy? Your amazing mother can feel it, but I haven't yet had the chance. Not for a lack of rubbing your mum's belly, but we're a few weeks away from me getting a feel. There's a joke there, you'll get it later. Yep, it's your dear old dad here checking in.
So, my little Sean, you're my boy. Wow. You're my boy! My son! Our son, really, because your mother counts as well. She's doing all the work right now. And lets be realistic...she'll be doing most of the work for quite awhile. What with the whole 'you-getting-out-of-her-body' thing, the breast feeding, this merconium thing I learned about in the pre-Sean-atal classes, lots of stuff. As your dad I get to bypass the physical pain and discomfort of your arrival into this crazy world and get to the good stuff. Once you're out, I get to put little Chicago Bears booties on your feet (that Uncle Marc got you before the Bears made that ridiculous trade for Jay Cutler for 2 first rounders and a third and Kyle Orton...) and take you back to your future home. No matter, you'll be coming home. Home. Funny word, 'home'.
Home. Your first licks in the face from a big black lab and a crazy Cairn. Home. Your first ever bedroom. Home. Where you took your first steps. Home. Home. Home. Its a great word, funny as it sounds. Its where you're supposed to be. Home. Can't wait til you get here and all heck breaks loose.
Keep doing whatever it is you're doing in there, Sean. Its working out. Your dad is one proud guy.

Love already,

Monday, April 6, 2009

For 9 months only - Cirque de Soleil, the Uterine Show!

Good morning our little acrobat!

I have today off as I work this Saturday so I thought this to be the perfect chance to catch back up with you. It was a beautiful weekend with lots of sunshine but today it is (to my bitter disgust) SNOWING - again!!! Everyone is starting to feel like this winter will never end (although it is officially spring). I hope that my poor little daffodils that thought it safe to sprout in the backyard, are resilient enough to handle this awful weather.

I spent a lot of time with your uncles Anthony and Joe on Saturday while your dad worked. We had breakfast together and then took the dogs to the local park for a romp. Your big black lab brother, Tucker, spent most of the time in the creek or in the lake. The water must have been freezing but he didn't mind and instead he managed to attract some followers - a young family with two little girls who kept throwing him a stick in the water and then proceeded to burst into fits of cute little-girl laughter each time he chased it. It was very sweet.

Last night, your uncles with Ajay and your aunt Carol and cousin Evan came by for dinner. I had slaved all day on this meal and was proud to be serving it to my family. We started with a champagne cocktail (none for me of course :) and a pate with a blackberry sauce in pancetta followed by a side salad. The main course was a medallion of lamb on a fondant potato with a trio of pureed vegetables. We had homemade creme brulee for desert. Now your uncles may remember this dinner as nothing more than hamburgers and hotdogs with a baked potato and pre-made salads (one of which was a radioactive-green coleslaw) - but MY blog, MY memories.

We had a fantastic time! Tucker and Skye are still exhausted from all of the excitement and have only just reluctantly removed themselves from the couch to go out and relieve themselves. I swear that their little eyes were begging for a doggie-catheter so that they didn't have to leave the soft, warm comfort of the sofa.

Your uncle Anthony and I went through the scrapbook that your Granny made for your dad for Christmas 2002. It took your Granny over a year to put the book together and it is a wonderful collection of pictures and stories from the day your dad was born until we got married. Your uncle and I laughed at the story of your dad's 'Bobbie' (ie - bottle) and how your uncle Marc and Grampa would hide it from your dad to tease him. Anthony joked that your dad still loved his 'Bobbie' and perhaps we should play the same games. Your dad was not amused.

I got choked up at your dad's baby pictures. Your dad looks just like his dad (your Grampa) and you might look just the same. It will be so exciting to find out and to compare your dad's baby pictures with yours. That being said, I also come from a line of very dominant genes. All of the women and some of the men on my mum's side (the Hutcheson's) generally look the same - blonde hair, blue eyes. In fact, I was in Scotland a few years ago and entered into a local store. Before I could even say a word the cashier said 'You're a Hutcheson aren't you?!?!' Therefore it will be interest to see what the Danish/Scottish mix brings. That, with the random Greek component from your Pa's side, could make for a baby that looks very little like your dad or I. Time will tell I guess!

I've been watching an inordinate amount of baby shows, interested to see what other people go through when they have a child. There is a Baby Story, Birth Days, Life's Birth Stories and Bringing Home Baby. The first three deal with the days leading up to the couple's (or single parent) life-altering event when they will have and bring home their baby (or multiples - eek!). To say that I get emotional when the baby makes his or her glorious appearance is an understatement, tears stream down my face and I am positive I look less than attractive. To be honest, the babies often look like purple old men, but I am sure that although you may look the same, we will think you are just gorgeous. An episode today showed a woman, post-csection asking her husband 'is he cute???' and her husband, who was watching the nurses clean the wee guy who was squinting at the bright lights, said 'he looks like a Pirate.' Although I see these women in excruciating pain and panic, I am actually not worried about labour. Nope. What I am worried about is the days after you are brought home. I see these couples, often well educated and well-versed in every baby book under the sun, walk into their home with their baby - a look of shock and panic on their faces and what may as well be a cartoon bubble above their head saying 'What the heck do we do now????' They then show the first night when the couple is up every two hours and their pale, tired faces the next morning. Bringing Home Baby shows only the first three days after-birth and I enjoy it because it is realistic. I watched one today where the mother was in the same pyjamas for the full episode. That is one woman I can relate to. We are up for the challenge my dearest Sean, in fact we can't wait.

You are a very active baby. I feel you flipping, turning and moving a lot. Your dad keeps trying to get a feel of all of the activity but you are too small yet for him to get in on the action. At least, I assume that he is trying to feel the activity ... or he is just being a dirty boy. (cue your embarrassment 0nce again) I talk and sing to you all of the time. In fact, last night I lay in bed and you were doing your usual acrobatics so I began to talk to you. I opened my eyes to see Skye, sitting up with ears perked and a look on her face that I can only assume meant 'Who in the hell are you talking to???' You know it's bad when your dog looks at you like you are crazy.

We get to see you again in about 6 weeks! The last visit with Dr. Wavy-eyes showed that the fibroids I have in my uterus are larger and in two unusual spots which may make your arrival interesting to say the least. He is not worried and neither am I, you have to come out somehow! The next ultrasound will show any changes and will mean another set of pictures for your little album.

Well munchkin, I had better get something accomplished today. I am going to hang up some lovely clothes you received from our friends Matt and Jen and a cute 'Cottager in Training' onesie that you got from aunt Patty and uncle Mike. You are going to be one spoiled little boy!

One last thought. On one of the shows today the mom said that the reason that they allowed the show to film their experience was that someday when their son watches it he will know how much they loved him before they even met him. That is the same reason we do this blog. It is nice to have family and friends follow your development from afar, but mainly we hope that someday you will know how much time we've spent thinking about and planning for you and how excited we are for the changes that you will bring to our lives.

Love you.
Stay strong and healthy.