Um--okay I've started this post about a million times in my head.
Here's the thing kiddo:
This has been hard. You child, knocked me off my trajectory---quite literally making me pass out, and oh boy-- the nausea was enough to make me sob, and pray for it to all just end.
I've had to adjust my expectations of what my body does.
For example: I used to be able to do EVERYTHING! Teach, photo shoots/ editing, house keeping, read, work out, paint murals, cook--unload the dishwasher--garden!
Early August -- You let me know of your presence by sending me into a vertigo induced migrane-- hot, sweaty nausea--and so much spinning! Your Uncle Soren and Aunt Emily had their open house that day, and I was a puddle of helpless goo...
Unsure that I was REALLY pregnant (gasp! could it be? What? No! ...hmmm...well?) we waited a couple days before taking a test.
I was so passive about it all--what? me? pregnant? HA! No, not yet. ---the first test had the faintest of faint lines, and I threw it out, thinking...--"Oh well...Guess not really pregnant! "
But the smells....oh my goodness child, you made me so sensitive to smells...
More tests...
Yep--two lines.
Holy moly.
Your Daddy was driving across the country with all our stuff in a van, heading back to Utah. I sent him a picture.
He was giddy with joy!--and at the next rest stop, bought you a stuffed animal : a dolphin. He has always been so excited for your arrival. So supportive, and so positive--I know I couldn't have done this journey without him.
When it was time for me to fly back I remember going through the security lines at the airport --wondering if the metal detectors would harm this tiny fetus, the size of a pea.
Unpacking, and moving into the house was great. I had energy! I had a project!
I was ready to pounce on this new adventure of teaching at a new school---I had students, and parents all excited---and THEN:
You knocked me out.
Cold.
On the bathroom floor with a broken nose and a black eye, and twitching, and your Daddy hovering over me, "Kjirsten! Kjirsten! Are you okay! What happened?!"
That's when the debilitating weakness hit. I couldn't lift my arms. I couldn't turn my head. You were very particular about which way I slept (only on the left! Don't even THINK about turning to the right) ---and all I could do was mumble for protein shakes, and toast, and roasted potatoes...and pickles for the first time in my life...
I had become useless, compared to my regular standards. My body, was so busy jump starting yours that it became consumed by it. I was completely thrown-- What about all my plans?! What about my teaching?! What are we going to do?!
*deep breath*
This was the part where Mom had to start learning to be your Mom. The part where you started making me into something I never knew I could be.
But I couldn't mother you with milk, or snuggle you, or wipe your tears---because you, little one were still so--so ---SO small inside me but so huge in my universe.
I just had to hold my hands over my belly and cry, and say--"Okay! This is what we do now."
This was the part where I had to learn to let my body do whatever it was going to do-- even those early scary days of spotting, and dizzy spells...and not knowing if you were going to hang around and turn into whatever it was you were/are going to be...
Just breathe. Just try to sleep through it.
Sleep and pray and barf through September.
And October.
And Oh---keep going--It's November. *butterfly flutters, and popcorn popping--you were saying hello!*
Our mantra was just make it till Christmas. Just make it till then...
Make it till December 10th-- 20 weeks, and an ultra sound with Abeulos and ---there you were--really really YOU! With a face, and attitude, and thumb sucking, and adorable stretching and kicking---we could see you!
After that, I started to feel better. Small bursts of energy... The smells still got me...but I started climbing up out of myself, and lo and behold! I could do a load of laundry! I could do more than just lay in bed!
My body continued to morph---stretch marks, and sore boobs. My hair and skin texture---my ear wax---everything changing. Everything about me looked pregnant. My eye lids, My toes. Looking in the mirror--It was my body--but so alien. And now this dancing womb---like you were continually doing tai chi. I felt beautiful and strange and huge.
This was all happening to me, and I just had to let it wash over me. Again. And again... like waves. "This is your new normal. This is what you are now. This is real. and this--- will fluctuate yet again...and become another normal. Another version of you."
So I let it.
I read.
I prayed.
I survived through those days.
I reveled in the sunshine--and the days where I felt great!
I pushed myself too hard, trying to get back into my old routines and would have to abandon ship-- Dishes had to be left--mid my attempts to unload. The floor could not be mopped, by me. I would have to sit, at the stove and try to stir the pot of soup because standing was just too much--only to finally give up and retreat back to bed.
Your Daddy realized that this made me a little crazy--and cheerfully cleaned the house, did the laundry, the cooking, and constantly gave me encouragement and love.
He sang/ sings to you, every day and every night. You would start to kick so hard, you'd lift his hand off my belly!
He still loves to pick out your clothes--- and asks how and what you're doing all the time.
We started prepping your room, our house, the "stuff" that you'd need.
and we made it through all our appointments---the midwives always remarked how active you are, and how much you like to move...
and then...suddenly--now
It's April.
And it feels like we've had no time to get ready, and yet, we're three weeks away from your 'due date'...
and baby---dear baby... we are heading into a new normal. Where Mom freaks out a little bit, about you being on the outside, and someday growing up--- and then calmly folds your clothes, and reads a lot of calming words...and sings to you and you kick back----you're running out of room.
And Daddy happily sings to you and wonders what you'll be like.
And both of us try to send you good energy to stay inside until April 25th... after finals--and after Grandma Anne gets here.
* * * * *
“What is REAL?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit one day... "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When [someone] loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.
"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand... once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When [someone] loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.
"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand... once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
* * * * *
To my baby-- Oh, sweet baby! You are worth it. You are worth all my aching back, and fried mommy brain. You are worth the nausea. You are worth the sleepless nights, where I wonder what our relationship will be like as you grow older. You are worth painful contractions. And being unmade---and then becoming something wholly new.
Give me time, baby. We've never done this before. We'll figure it all out. You and me, and your Dad.
and thanks for making us real, baby...
"because once you are real, you can't become unreal again. It lasts...for always..."
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