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Christmas

Growing, life happens,

It’s Christmas night and he’s kicking up a storm.

I take comfort in his kicks. They let me know he’s here, that he’s still thriving, that he’s ready to move, that he’s a part of me, but also apart from me. I don’t control him. I don’t know when he’s going to kick. He’s on his own schedule, his own time frame. It’s strange, but comforting.

I think about him all the time now. We have just over two months to go before we meet in person. And I can’t wait. I’m so looking forward to having him in my life, to holding him, to feeding him. To having him frustrate me, challenge me, totally depend on me. It’s going to be amazing.

This Christmas was special. We know he’s coming. He got tons of presents from everyone. He’s beloved, and everyone was thinking about next year, when he’ll be part of all of this.

Everything seems to be going well with him, with me. We’re moving along right as we are supposed to. We are monitored a little more heavily, but nothing so far has come up of concern. I don’t even have the gestational diabetes I was convinced was going to change everything. Heart is fine. Blood pressure is fine. Some swelling but manageable.

I keep wondering what he’ll be like. Whether he’ll be assertive and opinionated like his cousin. Whether he’ll be quiet and reserved. Whether he’ll be challenging or easy. Whether he’ll be one we have to be careful for when he’s quiet or will we know he’s coming from a mile away.

In some respects, I feel like he’s already here. He’s taking so much of our energy and love. But we’re overjoyed to give it to him. And it’s not a chore. He’s adding to our lives, and I think we’re even closer than we were before because of him, if that was even possible.

This world we are bringing him into is chaotic and scary and messed up. But we know he’ll add value to it, try to make it a better place. And we will do everything in our power to protect him, to love him, to prepare him for this world.

Merry Christmas little one. I’m so happy you’re in my life, kicking me, letting me know you’re here. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, to show you the world of love that you’re coming into, to feel your excitement and wonder and awe at this place we’re bringing you to.

I’m so very much in love with you.

Come Together

Growing, life happens, ,

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…

Growing, ,

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?

a new normal

Growing, life happens, ,

I’ve not exactly avoided coming here, though there hasn’t been much to say.

In October, Graham and I were both tested, and aside from a small fibroid on my uterus, everything seems to be good. My egg reserves were apparently “unusually good” for a person my age, and the doctor thought that the main thing that was wrong was our age. So I flew home early from Thanksgiving to begin the IUI process. The first month I had follicles that were 18, 15 and 11 mm. I didn’t get pregnant. The second month, I had a cyst on one of my ovaries and we skipped. The third month, I had follicles that were 26 and 24 mm. I didn’t get pregnant. And the fourth month was just weird.

We’re in the 5th month now, and we’re skipping the cycle. My doctor still thinks that everything looks good from the technical side of things. He just thinks my body is waiting for the perfect egg, and with my age, they’re not as common as they used to be. He still thinks the IUI will work, and Graham and I have talked about how far we’re willing to take this. I think two more cycles and then we start talking about what else.

The rest of my life seems to be coming together better now.

I just finished a 40 days of yoga experiment at a local studio, and I think I’m going to stick with it. Graham and I are in the planning stages of the house expansion, and we’re getting closer and closer to construction. We went to Taos for a week last month, and I think it invigorated both of us to get moving on projects. I feel more connected to myself than I have since I lost the pregnancy, and I think I care a lot more now. 2013 was a very stressful year for me, and I think it took all of 2014 to recover.

I feel like writing again. I feel like doing projects again. I feel like exercising again. I’m watching what I eat again.

Sleeping dogs lie

Growing, life happens,

Fusilli and Celosa are asleep as I’m writing this. Graham is working. It’s raining and has been for a long time. This was surprise storm, and a welcome one. We’ve needed the rain.

I spent a good hunk of the morning working in the yard, pulling stuff out from under the palm tree and trimming vines that are creeping over the fence.