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,
Mom
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
Sunday, April 26, 2009
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,
Dad
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,
Dad
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.
Love,
Mom
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.
Love,
Mom
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Good Morning Munchkin!
Your mom has been up for quite some time now, laying in bed thinking of you so I thought I'd get up and write about our/your most recent adventures. Quite honestly, I am not generally a morning-person. I am not grumpy, per se, but neither am I bounding out of bed singing, eager to start the day. It takes me a good hour of slow-motion, a hot shower, food and the spackling on of makeup before I am ready to speak to another human being. Today is different though. I'm abuzz with excitement after having seen you yesterday - but more on that later ...
This weekend your dad and I (and by default, you) went to New York to visit my family there. My mum (your Gram) and John Tonner were first cousins, making John and I second cousins, making his children (Sheila, Tara and Sean) my third cousins. My Nana and Sheila/Tara/Sean's Nana were sisters. (In fact, their Nana was named Bridget!) Confusing, I know. Let's just say that we're cousins and leave it at that. Sheila, Tara and Sean are in their thirties and are just amazing, fun and witty. Apparently we used to visit quite a bit when we were young but unfortunately I have little recollection of that time (I swear that I was born at 13!). Over two years ago (maybe three ...) Tara got married and I accompanied my mum as her date. This rekindled my relationship with my cousins and we have kept in touch ever since. Whew! Backstory completed, we went to see them this weekend.
Pearl River, NY where everyone lives is a very cute town with a massive Irish population. I have heard fewer Irish accents in Dublin, I kid you not. This means that the Sunday after St. Patrick's day a HUGE St. Pat's celebration, large parade included, is held. People come from all over to attend the celebrations and everyone wears green. Many people take the Monday off of work in order to celebrate properly. In fact, local schools have actually been closed the Monday after! Tara and her husband Mike hold a large party after the parade and it seemed like hundreds of their family and friends were in and out of their house over the course of the evening. Tara put on a huge spread of food inside and Mike manned a grill that could barbeque a whole cow outside. What a fantastic party!! I really really missed your Gram that day as I know that she would have been holding court on a stool in the kitchen with a glass ... ahem, bottle ... of wine while people sat enthralled with her stories and laughter.
Next year you will attend the party in person wearing the St. Patrick's sleeper that Tara found for you. Festivities went late into the night (not for your mom who was in bed at 12) which caused your dad and Mike to spend the next day on opposite ends of the couch, snuggled in blankets, watching Sportsnet. It was cute actually, save for their green, pasty faces and the scent of stale beer emanating from them.
While your dad and Mike recovered, Tara and I went to a few stores. I bought you a ton of clothes at the local Carter's store (50% off AND Tara had a coupon - woo hoo!) including the aforementioned St. Pattys sleeper AND a Valentine's day shirt. As you can tell, I love themed clothing, in fact Tara is going to get me an Easter sleeper for you. I fully intend of taking advantage of the fact that you are a baby and won't notice the silly outfits ... or bathtub photos. I look forward to pulling these photos out to show your date before you head to Prom. Yes, I will be THAT mom. Yes, you MAY end up in therapy but regardless, I can't friggin' wait.
The visit was fantastic and though we had a delay at the Newark airport which frustrated your dad, everything went well with our return on Tuesday. We picked up Tucker and Skye at their respective babysitters (Ant/Joe and your Pa) and though they couldn't have been treated better, they were sulky for a day after our return.
This brings us to yesterday, March 25th - a day that your dad and I will NEVER forget!! Your 20 week ultrasound! I went to work for half a day but was sick with nerves the entire time and wasn't as effective as I probably could have been. I was excited to see you but still nervous that something would show in the scan that would be cause for concern. As it turns out, my worries went unfounded as everything went absolutely perfect!
I picked up your dad shortly after 1 and headed to the Met hospital in Windsor. Your dad parked while I registered and once he was sorted, he proceeded to get lost in the bowels of the hospital. I was in the waiting area reading a book when your dad appeared through a door he should never have come from ... in scrubs and holding a scalpel ... to be honest, I'm still not sure what happened and will let him explain. Regardless, he found me and we waited for the word.
I got called in but your dad had to sit in the waiting room until you were all measured. The tech proceeded to measure basically every inch of you and told me what was happening each time which was better and less worrisome than laying there in silence. The tech would say 'I'm measuring the circumference of the head ... now the cerebellum ... now I am looking at the heart ...' and I would follow along as much as I could with my peripheral vision. Occasionally she would get stuck on a particular organ for what would seem like a long time and I would be getting more nervous, but as it turned out - you were just flipping around and shaking your bon bon like your mom does to bad dance music - so much so that she could barely get a good shot to measure whatever it was that she was looking at. The tech also had a hard time getting your dad and I a decent picture because you refused to stay still! I think that we are in for a very interesting time with you if you are this active in the womb!
Although the tech knew, via me, that we wanted to find out your sex she waited until your dad got called in to share the news. The tech (I feel so bad for not getting her name!) then proceeded to show us what was probably a very important graph about where you are in your development (in a nutshell, PERFECT!) when I blurted out 'IT'S A BOY, RIGHT!?!' and she said that yes, indeed - you are a boy.
Well, our dearest sweetest Sean, your dad and I welled up with pride and tears at the image of our bouncing baby boy (literally) on screen. The tech showed your dad everything she had gone through; the umbilical cord, spine, your kidneys, heart, head, hands, feet and your penis. Yes, I am causing you further future embarassment by mentioning your penis in this letter. But there it was. Multiple times. You were showing off for the camera. Everytime the tech would scan down to show your dad a foot or tibia *boom* you flashed your penis. So much so that in the 9 pics that the tech gave us of you - 2, are of your man parts. Ah well, I will support whatever career choice that you make and, in fact, I hear that the Chippendales make good money.
You are looking fantastic and are exactly where you need to be in your development. You have taken our advice to grow strong to heart and we are so grateful. I am also feeling you move regularly now and I know that I am walking around with a very goofy smile on my face every day because I am thinking of you.
As soon as we left the hospital we called your Granny followed by a flurry of calls to the rest of the family and our friends. Everyone is so excited, not because you are a boy but because you are looking perfect and healthy. I know that your Gram in heaven (who, by the way, told me in a dream in December that you were a boy - hence why I was so confident in my knowledge of your sex) is smiling down on us and taking care of you.
Well babe, I have to be getting to work. There is always more to say but I still have a bit of time to say it so we will resume this conversation later.
Take care in there my boy,
love,
Mom
Your mom has been up for quite some time now, laying in bed thinking of you so I thought I'd get up and write about our/your most recent adventures. Quite honestly, I am not generally a morning-person. I am not grumpy, per se, but neither am I bounding out of bed singing, eager to start the day. It takes me a good hour of slow-motion, a hot shower, food and the spackling on of makeup before I am ready to speak to another human being. Today is different though. I'm abuzz with excitement after having seen you yesterday - but more on that later ...
This weekend your dad and I (and by default, you) went to New York to visit my family there. My mum (your Gram) and John Tonner were first cousins, making John and I second cousins, making his children (Sheila, Tara and Sean) my third cousins. My Nana and Sheila/Tara/Sean's Nana were sisters. (In fact, their Nana was named Bridget!) Confusing, I know. Let's just say that we're cousins and leave it at that. Sheila, Tara and Sean are in their thirties and are just amazing, fun and witty. Apparently we used to visit quite a bit when we were young but unfortunately I have little recollection of that time (I swear that I was born at 13!). Over two years ago (maybe three ...) Tara got married and I accompanied my mum as her date. This rekindled my relationship with my cousins and we have kept in touch ever since. Whew! Backstory completed, we went to see them this weekend.
Pearl River, NY where everyone lives is a very cute town with a massive Irish population. I have heard fewer Irish accents in Dublin, I kid you not. This means that the Sunday after St. Patrick's day a HUGE St. Pat's celebration, large parade included, is held. People come from all over to attend the celebrations and everyone wears green. Many people take the Monday off of work in order to celebrate properly. In fact, local schools have actually been closed the Monday after! Tara and her husband Mike hold a large party after the parade and it seemed like hundreds of their family and friends were in and out of their house over the course of the evening. Tara put on a huge spread of food inside and Mike manned a grill that could barbeque a whole cow outside. What a fantastic party!! I really really missed your Gram that day as I know that she would have been holding court on a stool in the kitchen with a glass ... ahem, bottle ... of wine while people sat enthralled with her stories and laughter.
Next year you will attend the party in person wearing the St. Patrick's sleeper that Tara found for you. Festivities went late into the night (not for your mom who was in bed at 12) which caused your dad and Mike to spend the next day on opposite ends of the couch, snuggled in blankets, watching Sportsnet. It was cute actually, save for their green, pasty faces and the scent of stale beer emanating from them.
While your dad and Mike recovered, Tara and I went to a few stores. I bought you a ton of clothes at the local Carter's store (50% off AND Tara had a coupon - woo hoo!) including the aforementioned St. Pattys sleeper AND a Valentine's day shirt. As you can tell, I love themed clothing, in fact Tara is going to get me an Easter sleeper for you. I fully intend of taking advantage of the fact that you are a baby and won't notice the silly outfits ... or bathtub photos. I look forward to pulling these photos out to show your date before you head to Prom. Yes, I will be THAT mom. Yes, you MAY end up in therapy but regardless, I can't friggin' wait.
The visit was fantastic and though we had a delay at the Newark airport which frustrated your dad, everything went well with our return on Tuesday. We picked up Tucker and Skye at their respective babysitters (Ant/Joe and your Pa) and though they couldn't have been treated better, they were sulky for a day after our return.
This brings us to yesterday, March 25th - a day that your dad and I will NEVER forget!! Your 20 week ultrasound! I went to work for half a day but was sick with nerves the entire time and wasn't as effective as I probably could have been. I was excited to see you but still nervous that something would show in the scan that would be cause for concern. As it turns out, my worries went unfounded as everything went absolutely perfect!
I picked up your dad shortly after 1 and headed to the Met hospital in Windsor. Your dad parked while I registered and once he was sorted, he proceeded to get lost in the bowels of the hospital. I was in the waiting area reading a book when your dad appeared through a door he should never have come from ... in scrubs and holding a scalpel ... to be honest, I'm still not sure what happened and will let him explain. Regardless, he found me and we waited for the word.
I got called in but your dad had to sit in the waiting room until you were all measured. The tech proceeded to measure basically every inch of you and told me what was happening each time which was better and less worrisome than laying there in silence. The tech would say 'I'm measuring the circumference of the head ... now the cerebellum ... now I am looking at the heart ...' and I would follow along as much as I could with my peripheral vision. Occasionally she would get stuck on a particular organ for what would seem like a long time and I would be getting more nervous, but as it turned out - you were just flipping around and shaking your bon bon like your mom does to bad dance music - so much so that she could barely get a good shot to measure whatever it was that she was looking at. The tech also had a hard time getting your dad and I a decent picture because you refused to stay still! I think that we are in for a very interesting time with you if you are this active in the womb!
Although the tech knew, via me, that we wanted to find out your sex she waited until your dad got called in to share the news. The tech (I feel so bad for not getting her name!) then proceeded to show us what was probably a very important graph about where you are in your development (in a nutshell, PERFECT!) when I blurted out 'IT'S A BOY, RIGHT!?!' and she said that yes, indeed - you are a boy.
Well, our dearest sweetest Sean, your dad and I welled up with pride and tears at the image of our bouncing baby boy (literally) on screen. The tech showed your dad everything she had gone through; the umbilical cord, spine, your kidneys, heart, head, hands, feet and your penis. Yes, I am causing you further future embarassment by mentioning your penis in this letter. But there it was. Multiple times. You were showing off for the camera. Everytime the tech would scan down to show your dad a foot or tibia *boom* you flashed your penis. So much so that in the 9 pics that the tech gave us of you - 2, are of your man parts. Ah well, I will support whatever career choice that you make and, in fact, I hear that the Chippendales make good money.
You are looking fantastic and are exactly where you need to be in your development. You have taken our advice to grow strong to heart and we are so grateful. I am also feeling you move regularly now and I know that I am walking around with a very goofy smile on my face every day because I am thinking of you.
As soon as we left the hospital we called your Granny followed by a flurry of calls to the rest of the family and our friends. Everyone is so excited, not because you are a boy but because you are looking perfect and healthy. I know that your Gram in heaven (who, by the way, told me in a dream in December that you were a boy - hence why I was so confident in my knowledge of your sex) is smiling down on us and taking care of you.
Well babe, I have to be getting to work. There is always more to say but I still have a bit of time to say it so we will resume this conversation later.
Take care in there my boy,
love,
Mom
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Irish day, Irish name. No matter what, you're still a Dane.
Welly welly welly well, my wee bundle of loveness. It's your dear old dad here. Checking in, as I do. Today is St. Patrick's Day! Yes! That great celebration of all things Irish! Like your name! Ahhh...our little Bridget or Sean. So Irish! Like your parents! Well...not really...
Soooo....you're not Irish. Neither are your parents. I mean its there, the Irish in you. Pretty sure everyone here is Irish in some way or another. We all eat potatoes. We all listen to U2. We've all had a green beer at one place or another. But according to the calendar this is the day we're all Irish. So be it. Cheers!
Yes, your name is an Irish name. Sean? That's hardcore Irish. Bridget? Yep, that one, too. But you're not Irish? No. Your parents are mixed with Scottish and Greek, and Danish and Geek, some Spanish for the trip and some Irish on the lip....ahhhh....well, you're part Irish then. Kiss you, you're Irish. For today.
Love Already,
Dad
Soooo....you're not Irish. Neither are your parents. I mean its there, the Irish in you. Pretty sure everyone here is Irish in some way or another. We all eat potatoes. We all listen to U2. We've all had a green beer at one place or another. But according to the calendar this is the day we're all Irish. So be it. Cheers!
Yes, your name is an Irish name. Sean? That's hardcore Irish. Bridget? Yep, that one, too. But you're not Irish? No. Your parents are mixed with Scottish and Greek, and Danish and Geek, some Spanish for the trip and some Irish on the lip....ahhhh....well, you're part Irish then. Kiss you, you're Irish. For today.
Love Already,
Dad
The hamburger or hotdog countdown begins!
Hi there munchkin,
It must seem like we've been neglecting writing to you, but the truth is we haven't really done much that is blogworthy of late. I suppose I could write about my disappointment at not being able to find blueberries for less than $3.99 a quart or the raging internal battle I had the other day as to whether or not breakfast would be Weetabix or honeynut Cheerios (in the end, I put both in the bowl thus sparking my entreprenurial idea of Honeynut Weetabix *patent pending*) ... but I know that such thoughts are not really interesting to most people. Okay, all people. In fact I bet that you're basically asleep right now.
Two weekends ago we had your Aunt Liz, Duane and my crazy friend Joey from Toronto down for a visit. A great time was had by all. Your Aunt Liz, Joey and I went to a bar in a neighbouring small town and I remembered how nice it was to leave the house on a Saturday night. We got hammered and your Aunt Liz and I danced on the bar. KIDDING!! I'm not saying that I haven't 'indulged' in a few alcoholic beverages in my day or that I haven't found myself atop a bar at a biker tavern in downtown Vegas ... but that was pre-pregnancy and stories for another time. A much later time. Anyways, that particular Saturday night I was the demure DD (designated driver) and was able to drink Pepsi for free all night - woo hoo! Us Scots like anything for free. Your dad and Duane hit the local Legion for $8 pitchers of beer and by all accounts had a raucous time with the only two other people in there; the bartender and 'some old guy' (your dad's description).
This past weekend your dad and I headed up to your Granny and Poppa's in Ipperwash for a visit. Your Uncle Marc and Auntie Kelly were there and we also saw Uncle Jim, Aunt Jill and Joanie and their wonderful respective others; Leslie, Dan and Mark. It is lovely and peaceful in Ipperwash but the best part (besides the visiting of course!) is sleeping there. I'm not sure what your Granny uses on her sheets ... or what drug the pillows are laced with ... but the bed is always sooooo cozy and quite frankly, it sucks to leave it in the morning. Someday you will see exactly what I mean. Your Poppa Art has hit a bit of a rough patch in his health but he is fortunate to have people all over the world praying for him and sending healing thoughts. You will absolutely love him. Everyone does.
As usual you got molested from the outside as everyone marvelled at the change in my stomach. Granted, some of it may have been forced as I walked right up to people, grabbing their hand saying 'Feel how big my belly has gotten! No seriously, feel it!' and them obliging (sometimes awkwardly) but I am in such awe at the changes that I like everyone to experience it. I am also amazed at the changes in my bosom but thought better than to force them on anyone. I don't know how an Indecent Exposure citation would mesh with my work at the bank.
Your Granny gave us some fantastic sleepers and onesies for you! Some of them have a little indicator in the back that changes colour when you have a fever - how amazing is that?!? Your little closet is quickly filling up. Your Uncle Marc and Auntie Kelly also bought you Chicago Bears slippers - oh my God are they cute! You will definitely be wearing them as you leave the hospital. It is so amazing to think that later this summer you will be out of my tummy and into your little outfits. Crazy.
Prenatal classes continue to go well and we (your father rather) were spared another birthing video. There was a CSection video but they never really get upclose in those so your dad remained his normal colour. We DID however learn about ways they may try to get you out if you refuse to come or if you are having trouble, needless to say some of those are less than appealing. In my opinion, the words 'vacuum' and 'labour' should never, ever be used in the same sentence *shudder*. I know I'm asking for a lot here but if you could come out at a reasonable date (when you are fully cooked of course) I would be appreciative. In return, my grecian hips should be roomy enough to allow your entrance to be relatively comfortable. In fact, you could probably bring out the book you've been reading with ease. (Oh right, I forgot to tell you - we are 1/4 Greek, your Pa's (my dad) mum was 100% Greek and was brought to Scotland during the war by your Pa's dad - cool eh?).
Today is St. Patrick's Day! Your dad and I are listening to Irish music and reminiscing about the many St. Patty's days at the Roundtower bar where he used to play or at the Brass Door. You can probably hear the music from in there it is so loud :) You will find out how much fun St. Patrick's day is in 2029 when you are 19 and your Aunt Liz and I take you out. Oh, you thought that you would spend your first drinking St. Patty's day with your friends??? You are sorely mistaken my child, sorely mistaken. We will have a great time, I promise! Yes - seriously!!
Well my dear, for someone who thought she had nothing to write I certainly managed to ramble. We get to see you in 8 days and hopefully find out if you are a boy or a girl - hence the title of the blog (which your dad said was crass and obscene but I think is funny) - and we cannot wait.
Well our little pot o'gold, stay safe in there and I will talk to you soon.
Lots of love
Mom
It must seem like we've been neglecting writing to you, but the truth is we haven't really done much that is blogworthy of late. I suppose I could write about my disappointment at not being able to find blueberries for less than $3.99 a quart or the raging internal battle I had the other day as to whether or not breakfast would be Weetabix or honeynut Cheerios (in the end, I put both in the bowl thus sparking my entreprenurial idea of Honeynut Weetabix *patent pending*) ... but I know that such thoughts are not really interesting to most people. Okay, all people. In fact I bet that you're basically asleep right now.
Two weekends ago we had your Aunt Liz, Duane and my crazy friend Joey from Toronto down for a visit. A great time was had by all. Your Aunt Liz, Joey and I went to a bar in a neighbouring small town and I remembered how nice it was to leave the house on a Saturday night. We got hammered and your Aunt Liz and I danced on the bar. KIDDING!! I'm not saying that I haven't 'indulged' in a few alcoholic beverages in my day or that I haven't found myself atop a bar at a biker tavern in downtown Vegas ... but that was pre-pregnancy and stories for another time. A much later time. Anyways, that particular Saturday night I was the demure DD (designated driver) and was able to drink Pepsi for free all night - woo hoo! Us Scots like anything for free. Your dad and Duane hit the local Legion for $8 pitchers of beer and by all accounts had a raucous time with the only two other people in there; the bartender and 'some old guy' (your dad's description).
This past weekend your dad and I headed up to your Granny and Poppa's in Ipperwash for a visit. Your Uncle Marc and Auntie Kelly were there and we also saw Uncle Jim, Aunt Jill and Joanie and their wonderful respective others; Leslie, Dan and Mark. It is lovely and peaceful in Ipperwash but the best part (besides the visiting of course!) is sleeping there. I'm not sure what your Granny uses on her sheets ... or what drug the pillows are laced with ... but the bed is always sooooo cozy and quite frankly, it sucks to leave it in the morning. Someday you will see exactly what I mean. Your Poppa Art has hit a bit of a rough patch in his health but he is fortunate to have people all over the world praying for him and sending healing thoughts. You will absolutely love him. Everyone does.
As usual you got molested from the outside as everyone marvelled at the change in my stomach. Granted, some of it may have been forced as I walked right up to people, grabbing their hand saying 'Feel how big my belly has gotten! No seriously, feel it!' and them obliging (sometimes awkwardly) but I am in such awe at the changes that I like everyone to experience it. I am also amazed at the changes in my bosom but thought better than to force them on anyone. I don't know how an Indecent Exposure citation would mesh with my work at the bank.
Your Granny gave us some fantastic sleepers and onesies for you! Some of them have a little indicator in the back that changes colour when you have a fever - how amazing is that?!? Your little closet is quickly filling up. Your Uncle Marc and Auntie Kelly also bought you Chicago Bears slippers - oh my God are they cute! You will definitely be wearing them as you leave the hospital. It is so amazing to think that later this summer you will be out of my tummy and into your little outfits. Crazy.
Prenatal classes continue to go well and we (your father rather) were spared another birthing video. There was a CSection video but they never really get upclose in those so your dad remained his normal colour. We DID however learn about ways they may try to get you out if you refuse to come or if you are having trouble, needless to say some of those are less than appealing. In my opinion, the words 'vacuum' and 'labour' should never, ever be used in the same sentence *shudder*. I know I'm asking for a lot here but if you could come out at a reasonable date (when you are fully cooked of course) I would be appreciative. In return, my grecian hips should be roomy enough to allow your entrance to be relatively comfortable. In fact, you could probably bring out the book you've been reading with ease. (Oh right, I forgot to tell you - we are 1/4 Greek, your Pa's (my dad) mum was 100% Greek and was brought to Scotland during the war by your Pa's dad - cool eh?).
Today is St. Patrick's Day! Your dad and I are listening to Irish music and reminiscing about the many St. Patty's days at the Roundtower bar where he used to play or at the Brass Door. You can probably hear the music from in there it is so loud :) You will find out how much fun St. Patrick's day is in 2029 when you are 19 and your Aunt Liz and I take you out. Oh, you thought that you would spend your first drinking St. Patty's day with your friends??? You are sorely mistaken my child, sorely mistaken. We will have a great time, I promise! Yes - seriously!!
Well my dear, for someone who thought she had nothing to write I certainly managed to ramble. We get to see you in 8 days and hopefully find out if you are a boy or a girl - hence the title of the blog (which your dad said was crass and obscene but I think is funny) - and we cannot wait.
Well our little pot o'gold, stay safe in there and I will talk to you soon.
Lots of love
Mom
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Just as Nostradamus Predicted: The Great Belly Explosion of 2009!
Good evening little one!
I just wanted to check in on this the 17th week of your gestation. Things continue to go well in our household, your dad and I are working away and Skye and Tucker spend their days depositing fur and canine body impressions on our bed. You are doing an incredible amount of growing now! You are 5 inches and 5 ounces and your hearing is developing ... geeze, I'd better watch that I don't frighten you with my language ... or singing. You will find out, my dear child, that though the Stewart family has been blessed with many gifts - a nice singing voice is not one of them. Sadly, it is quite the opposite. Even more sad is that we love to sing. You will someday hear my sister, your aunt Carol, belting out many a song tunelessly in the car. Cats everywhere cover their ears with their paws. Unfortunately I'm no better. Your dad is much more musical and since we now know that you are listening, he will now sit close to my belly and play his guitar for you.
As you will recall, I had been quite chuffed with myself for not gaining weight between doctors visits. I had also been able to wear my own jeans, albeit tightly, up until last Tuesday. Since I hit the four month mark last Wednesday however, it seems that almost overnight my body underwent an incredible change. I officially 'popped'! This was unfortunately realized at approximately 4:30 this past Saturday as I rushed to get ready for a 2 3/4 hour ride to Tillsonburg for a party with our friends. My jeans didn't even come close to doing up - I tried using an elastic band to hold both sides together and all I managed to do was get my hand stung as the elastic snapped. 30 minutes later I had a pile of pants and skirts beside me and I stood in a bra and tights fighting back tears of frustration while your dad yelled for me to hurry up and 'what the heck was taking me so long?' I considered going in my cleanest jammies and expressing surprise when I got there that 'oops - why did I think it was a pajama party?' but eventually found a skirt and top that I could wear comfortably.
Everyone who I shared my Saturday night story with has said 'of course you have a belly, you're pregnant!' which I obviously know, but it seemed to occur within days, moments even. I was under no illusions that I would remain the same weight nor did I daydream of people being shocked in July that I was so-far along because I looked fantastic and 'barely-pregnant.' Okay, I lied. I have daydreamed about it. I daydreamed that I would end up with this smallish bump at the very end with no weight having stuck to any other part of my body. Like Cindy Crawford who gained only 15lbs, 8 of which was baby (*I'll explain who that is/was when you are older*). I daydreamed in the same way I have our 649 winnings already alotted for when the big day occurs - hopeful but certainly not realistic. No, my sweet baby. From not fitting into pants before a party to being taken to work via flatbed truck, this overnight bump is just the start of a very crazy journey.
We had a great time at the party. Food was eaten, drinks were drank (non-alcoholic in my case of course :) and there was a ton of laughter. You probably got pretty shook up in there with the all of the belly laughs that were had, not to mention all of the hands that reached out to touch you. Don't be creeped out, you were rubbed out of love. As you get older we will tell you not to let strangers reach out and touch you, but trust us that while you are in the womb it is perfectly fine. Many very special people, to whom you are already very important were there. Nic and Rob, Laura and Duane, Keri-Lyn and Brian, Liz, Marion ... just some of the incredible people whom you will get to know and love from the very moment that you are born. I don't know how your dad and I got so lucky to have such phenomenal friends but we are so grateful. We also received our first baby gifts!! Nikki Gundry bought you your first stuffed animal - a very soft elephant. You will come to find that after my three-month stint in India, I am elephant-crazy, in fact I would love to decorate your room with all elephants but your dad feels that it would be 'too much' (though a Jeep comforter, lamp, wall decorations and rug would not ... ahem ...). Keri-Lyn and Brian gave us a frame for our first sonogram pictures. I have never seen this before and was incredibly touched by the gesture. 17 weeks in and you are already getting spoiled!
Oh, I forgot to mention that your dad and I started prenatal classes last week. It started off innocently enough; talk of nutrients, food, do's and don'ts ... and just as we were lulled into a sense of security *WHAM* on went a birthing video. Your dad, completely unprepared for this turn of events, was traumatized (as were many of the other fathers in the room). Needless to say that when you make your grand entrance into the world, the first person you will lay eyes on will be the doctor. Not your dad. Don't take offence, it's nothing you've done - it's just that if your dad turns green and sweaty while watching a birthing video that he can turn away from, I hesitate to put him in a situation where it is full-on. I would like my memories of your entrance into the world to be void of your dad receiving medical attention after collapsing onto the floor. It's just safer for all involved.
Well babe, 17 weeks down and only 23 to go! Though I am so anxious to meet you that I sometimes feel like time is dragging, it is actually zooming past us. In three weeks time we get to see you for an extended period and take home a picture! We can't wait. You are already the light of our lives and you haven't even seen your first sunrise yet.
Love you lots. Stay safe and grow strong.
love,
Mom
I just wanted to check in on this the 17th week of your gestation. Things continue to go well in our household, your dad and I are working away and Skye and Tucker spend their days depositing fur and canine body impressions on our bed. You are doing an incredible amount of growing now! You are 5 inches and 5 ounces and your hearing is developing ... geeze, I'd better watch that I don't frighten you with my language ... or singing. You will find out, my dear child, that though the Stewart family has been blessed with many gifts - a nice singing voice is not one of them. Sadly, it is quite the opposite. Even more sad is that we love to sing. You will someday hear my sister, your aunt Carol, belting out many a song tunelessly in the car. Cats everywhere cover their ears with their paws. Unfortunately I'm no better. Your dad is much more musical and since we now know that you are listening, he will now sit close to my belly and play his guitar for you.
As you will recall, I had been quite chuffed with myself for not gaining weight between doctors visits. I had also been able to wear my own jeans, albeit tightly, up until last Tuesday. Since I hit the four month mark last Wednesday however, it seems that almost overnight my body underwent an incredible change. I officially 'popped'! This was unfortunately realized at approximately 4:30 this past Saturday as I rushed to get ready for a 2 3/4 hour ride to Tillsonburg for a party with our friends. My jeans didn't even come close to doing up - I tried using an elastic band to hold both sides together and all I managed to do was get my hand stung as the elastic snapped. 30 minutes later I had a pile of pants and skirts beside me and I stood in a bra and tights fighting back tears of frustration while your dad yelled for me to hurry up and 'what the heck was taking me so long?' I considered going in my cleanest jammies and expressing surprise when I got there that 'oops - why did I think it was a pajama party?' but eventually found a skirt and top that I could wear comfortably.
Everyone who I shared my Saturday night story with has said 'of course you have a belly, you're pregnant!' which I obviously know, but it seemed to occur within days, moments even. I was under no illusions that I would remain the same weight nor did I daydream of people being shocked in July that I was so-far along because I looked fantastic and 'barely-pregnant.' Okay, I lied. I have daydreamed about it. I daydreamed that I would end up with this smallish bump at the very end with no weight having stuck to any other part of my body. Like Cindy Crawford who gained only 15lbs, 8 of which was baby (*I'll explain who that is/was when you are older*). I daydreamed in the same way I have our 649 winnings already alotted for when the big day occurs - hopeful but certainly not realistic. No, my sweet baby. From not fitting into pants before a party to being taken to work via flatbed truck, this overnight bump is just the start of a very crazy journey.
We had a great time at the party. Food was eaten, drinks were drank (non-alcoholic in my case of course :) and there was a ton of laughter. You probably got pretty shook up in there with the all of the belly laughs that were had, not to mention all of the hands that reached out to touch you. Don't be creeped out, you were rubbed out of love. As you get older we will tell you not to let strangers reach out and touch you, but trust us that while you are in the womb it is perfectly fine. Many very special people, to whom you are already very important were there. Nic and Rob, Laura and Duane, Keri-Lyn and Brian, Liz, Marion ... just some of the incredible people whom you will get to know and love from the very moment that you are born. I don't know how your dad and I got so lucky to have such phenomenal friends but we are so grateful. We also received our first baby gifts!! Nikki Gundry bought you your first stuffed animal - a very soft elephant. You will come to find that after my three-month stint in India, I am elephant-crazy, in fact I would love to decorate your room with all elephants but your dad feels that it would be 'too much' (though a Jeep comforter, lamp, wall decorations and rug would not ... ahem ...). Keri-Lyn and Brian gave us a frame for our first sonogram pictures. I have never seen this before and was incredibly touched by the gesture. 17 weeks in and you are already getting spoiled!
Oh, I forgot to mention that your dad and I started prenatal classes last week. It started off innocently enough; talk of nutrients, food, do's and don'ts ... and just as we were lulled into a sense of security *WHAM* on went a birthing video. Your dad, completely unprepared for this turn of events, was traumatized (as were many of the other fathers in the room). Needless to say that when you make your grand entrance into the world, the first person you will lay eyes on will be the doctor. Not your dad. Don't take offence, it's nothing you've done - it's just that if your dad turns green and sweaty while watching a birthing video that he can turn away from, I hesitate to put him in a situation where it is full-on. I would like my memories of your entrance into the world to be void of your dad receiving medical attention after collapsing onto the floor. It's just safer for all involved.
Well babe, 17 weeks down and only 23 to go! Though I am so anxious to meet you that I sometimes feel like time is dragging, it is actually zooming past us. In three weeks time we get to see you for an extended period and take home a picture! We can't wait. You are already the light of our lives and you haven't even seen your first sunrise yet.
Love you lots. Stay safe and grow strong.
love,
Mom
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