Things I Know About My Baby

Ela is just over one week old. I don't know anything about her at all. And yet, I know everything about her. I made her and carried her and brought her into the world. She's oddly familiar and strangely foreign.

She likes to sleep with her hands up by her ears.

She's going to be strong and smart. She's trying desperately (and nearly succeeding) to hold up her head. She's found her thumb to suck.

Those dimples come from her daddy.

 
She's fairly easy-going (hopefully that sticks!).

When she wakes up she's content to look around, waggle her arms and flail her legs. 

Her smile is crooked--just like her mama's and her great-great grandpa's.

Miss Elanor, I'm looking forward to learning all about you over the next days, weeks, months, and years. You will be a lifetime of discovery. 

Introducing Elanor Grace

One week old, today.

The Great Wait

Here I sit. Bouncing on my exercise ball because it's the most comfy place to rest. Sitting. Bouncing. Waiting.

At my last midwife appointment half a week ago she predicted that the baby would be here any day. For those who care, at that point I was 80% effaced and 4 cm dilated. As a point of reference for those of you who haven't had kids... many (most?) people get to the hospital in active labor when they're about 4 cm dilated. I've been this way for a week. And 2 cm for a week before that.

I'm ready. But I wasn't. Up until the last day or so I had so many things still to do. Work was crazy busy and I just couldn't get caught up--much less get ahead. My house was a mess. The baby room wasn't done. I still had to pack a bag for the hospital and finish washing clothes.

Now I'm ready. Some of those things are done. Some aren't. But none seem important anymore. The things that must be ready are. The rest don't matter.

Here I sit. Time sits too. Still and hot, like it should in the middle of summer. Except this year, when day could be the day. I expected to spend these last nine months full of joy and excitement. Full of plans and dreams. And I have... kinda. It's been different than I expected. More apprehension. Fewer dreams. Perhaps I'm just not that sentimental, but I tend to live more in the now and less in the future. And NOW is when the future and the now should meet and become the perfect time to greet this little person for real.

Dear baby,

Please stop trying to exit my uterus through the right side (probably your left). There is no way out there. If you hang on for six more week I'm pretty sure you'll be able to find your way down and out. Thank you, baby.

Love and more love,
Mama

Leaving My Heart On the Freeway

I woke up in the middle of the night sobbing. Full on sobs with tear streaming down my face.

We were driving in a city, on our way to a movie. Inexplicably, we were in the back seat with my sister and my parents were driving. The puppies were with us, sitting on our laps and walking around. As is always the case in dreams things were off. The car seemed large because the puppies were in the way, but there was still plenty of room for them to move about. At one point, the Husband let them outside of the car on their leashes so they could potty.

But then, at a stoplight, he couldn't handle it anymore. He kicked the pups out of the car just before the light turned green and my parents pulled forward, off the freeway with a left turn and across an overpass, then continuing on a busy street with many lanes.

I stared at the puppies through the back window of the car as we drove away. It was horrible. Those sad, confused faces. They tried to follow, but we left so fast. I cried and yelled. Somehow I got out of the car and was standing in the middle of the busy lanes, calling for my Loki.

That's where I woke up with my heart hurting and my eyes dripping. For a minute, the Husband patted my back and soothed me over and over. Finally I was able to sputter out, "you left the dogs in the middle of the freeway!" At which point he snorted, laughed, rolled over and went back to sleep.

I know. It's completely ridiculous. But it was horrible and sad and overwhelming.

Intellectually, I know that I will love the baby more than the puppies. But in my heart it's hard to imagine. I love them more fiercely than I've loved anything or anyone before. They need me. They rely on me. I'm their person. Like I will be for the baby. How terrifying to think that the thought of losing the rascals is enough to nearly cause me hysterics... what's going to happen when the tiny human isn't safe inside of me anymore? My heart may break every single day.

A Girl

We are having a girl.

A GIRL, internets, a g i r l.

I've been fortunate to waver evenly on the gender fence... did I want a boy because they generally seem easier to raise? Or a girl because they're what I'm more familiar with, having only a sister? But now I no longer have to wonder as it will be a girl, equally full of ruffles and giant flowered headbands as of dirt and tools.

And although I thought I knew, I find myself wondering... how in the world does one go about raising a girl?