Monthly Archives: October 2021

Come Together

I try to play music for the little dude when I’m thinking about it. I play what is important to me, what is important to Graham. I play him music that Graham made. I play him classical. I play him rock. I play him jazz. I go back to the music that has given me comfort throughout my life, and I’m sure it’s as much for me as it is for him.

Sometimes I talk to him and explain something about the song. Or a memory associated with it. Or a person who comes to mind when I hear the song. Sometimes I sing along, hoping that he can hear that too. Some of the songs I’ll sing to him later, when he’s with us. Some he’ll only hear played and sung by someone else.

Last weekend it was Springsteen. We listened to Born to Run and the Live 75-85 album. Both are old, both have specific memories associated with them.

Today is the Beatles. We started with Sgt. Pepper, moved to Revolver, and just finished the White Album. Now, we’re listening to Abbey Road.

I haven’t talked to him about it yet, but I’m sure Graham is mentally working on a playlist in his head for those first few hours/days with him. Songs that mean something to us. Songs we want to be important to him. Songs that soothe. Songs that inspire. Songs that bring joy and happiness. Songs that bring peace and inspire slumber.

I think this focus on music is really just a simple way of connecting. A way of connecting that has been used for millennia. A shared language between people, and it’s a way that our little dude can start to feel things, hear things, even it they’re just disparate noises that come together a little. And it exposes him to stimuli without us necessarily having to do anything more than looking up what we want to hear and pressing “play.”

And music is a value that Graham and I want to pass on to him. It’s really important to both of us. It moves us. It inspires us. For Graham, it was a source of income and profession for decades.

And so this this will probably happen to him for the rest of his life with me. Sometimes he’ll love it, and we’ll connect through it. Sometimes he’ll roll his eyes and want to be anywhere else. And that’s ok. He’ll develop his own tastes. He’ll follow the trends of his own generation. He’ll make his own choices. But we’ll give him the building blocks to do that.

And so…

I’m not even sure how start.

He’s inside me. And he has been for awhile. He’ll be here, hopefully, for awhile longer.

And then, I get to meet him, and my life will change forever.


I forget sometimes. Or sometimes I think something terrible will happen. But the scans are good. The tests are good. It’s been an uneventful event, with only a few signs. Like being super tired at first. And my boobs growing.

Lately, my hands fall asleep at night, which is due the the fluid build up.

And I’m showing. In the four months so far, I haven’t gained all that much weight. I’m happy about that. But my belly gets more and more prominent every week.

I can tell when I go to yoga every week that suddenly poses aren’t accessible to me anymore. I can’t bend as well. I can’t lay on my stomach. I have to find modifications.

With all of the issues we had getting here–nearly ten years of dashed hopes, disappointments, trying something new to have it fail–it’s amazing to actually be here.

We’re talking about how to rearrange things. We’ve bought some clothes. We have a plan. And we’re so excited. So very, very excited.

At first, it seemed to take forever. Waiting for testing. Waiting for documents. Waiting for timing to work. And then it was a rollercoaster.

She gave us 41 eggs. Our mouths dropped when we heard that. 28 of them fertilized. 13 made it to day 5. We joke that we have a soccer team plus substitutions on ice. Later, when we were talking to the agency, the lady told us they usually hope for three or four. 13.

He took immediately. Transferred into me on June 23. July 3, I found out I was pregnant.

We’ve been quiet. We didn’t tell anyone but the immediate family at first, preparing for heartbreak. We let a few people in over time, and even though we have sort of lost count of who knows and who doesn’t, we still are individually telling people rather than broadcasting the news.

I think I felt him a little. Maybe. I have felt something a few times, though I don’t want to say for sure it’s him.

By the regular numbers, we are halfway through this. I’m still in shock about it. Can it be real?