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.
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