I don't really feel like myself.
I feel like you've changed me in the short 7 weeks we've known each other. The last couple of weeks, I've felt extremely tired. I sleep 10 hours a night, wake up late, barely make it to work on time and two hours later I'm ready for a nap. I have no energy to clean and the house is a mess. It takes all my reserve to just take the dog for a walk.
I've been eating non-stop. It's the only way to keep the nausea from taking over. I crave french fries with ranch dress and popcorn and Fuji apples and fresh navel oranges. The thought (and smell) of eating red meat makes me want to vomit.
I am emotional. I went to see my favorite band in concert last night. I kept thinking that it was nice to share this moment with you, watching and listening to my favorite band. I wondered if you could hear everything I could. I know you could feel how happy the music made me.
Your Daddy says there's an alien growing in me and sometimes I feel that way. My body is truly changing. I need to start taking pictures of my belly so we can see the progress. I think that would be fun.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
7 Weeks and 1 Day?!
So I'm here. And I'm your mother.
I wanted to start this because you're my first and you're important. I want remember what it was like before you were born - for my benefit - and also so I could share with you how wonderful it was waiting for you to arrive. I've already missed about 45 days of knowing of your existence, so I figured I better start writing immediately.
According to my doctors, you were conceived on September 8. According to my calendar, that is a Tuesday. Tuesday, September 8. I wished for an eiditic memory, so I could remember that day - what did your father and I have for dinner that night? Was it romantic? Did we snuggle on the couch and then make our way to the bedroom to unknowingly create something as special as you? Alas, I have no recollection of any of that. It was probably just an ordinary Tuesday.
I do remember what has happened since then - we've travelled from Charlotte to Northern California to tour wine country, San Francisco and attend a wedding. We've driven to Raleigh and back in one day to see U2 in concert. We've also spent the weekend at the beach with our friends. Most of the last two events, I spent sick and nauseaous or fitfully sleeping, happy to have some respite from my rolling stomach. I didn't know it was you that was making me sick. So it's okay. I'll forgive you.
The last couple of months have been sort of confusing for me as well, so writing this all down will perhaps make me understand it all.
Physically, here's how things have gone:
1) My last period was around the end of May. If you follow that schedule that means that I'm 20 weeks pregnant. Not the case.
2) September 8, we conceive.
3) September 11, I go to the Dr. Le for a follow-up and find out through serum test that I'm not pregnant (even though I already am). Since it had only been a couple of days, I'm assuming that it's because the pregnancy was so early that my hormones had yet changed enough to indicate the pregnancy.
4) September 13, I start taking the pill.
5) October 2, I feel terribly ill. I go to the Dr. and get treated for a kidney infection.
6) October 16, I go back to the Dr. and they confirm that I'm pregnant.
7) October 21, I go see the Ob/Gyn to confirm that I am 7 weeks and 1 day along.
Seven weeks and one day. That time period seems long and short at the same time. Is that possible?
I saw and heard you for the first time today. It was strangely surreal. My mother (your Lola) came with me to the Ob/Gyn, and we were both in the room when the nurse did the ultrasound, and they showed us your picture. You were a little flicker, a shimmer, an eyeblink. The nurse said you were the size of a lima bean. I heard your heartbeat over the monitor. It was so fast! Like you were so excited to be alive. I remember Mama and I both making noises when we heard you. Mama cried a little. I thought I would, but I didn't. I was happy though.
I called your Daddy after my appointment and told him how it all went. He's been sick the last few days and still a bit in shock about you coming. Well, let's be frank. He's in denial. But that's ok. I still love your Daddy and you should too.
* * *
So we should talk about your Daddy.
Next to you, he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. He really is. And what I'm about to tell you may not make it seem like it, but it's true.
He really doesn't want children. At this moment, he really doesn't want you. But I've told him that I want you enough for the both of us. I've always wanted you, even before I knew you existed, so you have nothing to worry about.
We talked about you a long time ago - what would we do? I told your Daddy that I've always wanted to have children, and I'm at an age (I'm 32 years old) where it's time that I start doing something about that. While I'd like to be in a stable relationship (marriage) where my partner also wants to have children and is ready, the stars don't always align. So if we were faced with a happy accident, my choice would be to bring that baby into the world. And now we're faced with that happy accident.
It really isn't happy for him. Your Daddy feels like he's not ready. He feels like he doesn't have enough money to support you. He also feels like the world is not exactly the happiest place to bring you into.
At the same time, it's already happened. I've made my choice, and I told him that I want him to go on this big adventure with me. But it's ultimately his choice to be around or to go away.
But don't worry. My prediction is that he'll get over his fears. While I'm prepared to raise you on my own, I didn't choose a dead-beat dad as the love of my life. He'll be around. You'll get to meet him. He's very handsome. He's really funny. He loves to play. And he gives the best hugs.
I wanted to start this because you're my first and you're important. I want remember what it was like before you were born - for my benefit - and also so I could share with you how wonderful it was waiting for you to arrive. I've already missed about 45 days of knowing of your existence, so I figured I better start writing immediately.
According to my doctors, you were conceived on September 8. According to my calendar, that is a Tuesday. Tuesday, September 8. I wished for an eiditic memory, so I could remember that day - what did your father and I have for dinner that night? Was it romantic? Did we snuggle on the couch and then make our way to the bedroom to unknowingly create something as special as you? Alas, I have no recollection of any of that. It was probably just an ordinary Tuesday.
I do remember what has happened since then - we've travelled from Charlotte to Northern California to tour wine country, San Francisco and attend a wedding. We've driven to Raleigh and back in one day to see U2 in concert. We've also spent the weekend at the beach with our friends. Most of the last two events, I spent sick and nauseaous or fitfully sleeping, happy to have some respite from my rolling stomach. I didn't know it was you that was making me sick. So it's okay. I'll forgive you.
The last couple of months have been sort of confusing for me as well, so writing this all down will perhaps make me understand it all.
Physically, here's how things have gone:
1) My last period was around the end of May. If you follow that schedule that means that I'm 20 weeks pregnant. Not the case.
2) September 8, we conceive.
3) September 11, I go to the Dr. Le for a follow-up and find out through serum test that I'm not pregnant (even though I already am). Since it had only been a couple of days, I'm assuming that it's because the pregnancy was so early that my hormones had yet changed enough to indicate the pregnancy.
4) September 13, I start taking the pill.
5) October 2, I feel terribly ill. I go to the Dr. and get treated for a kidney infection.
6) October 16, I go back to the Dr. and they confirm that I'm pregnant.
7) October 21, I go see the Ob/Gyn to confirm that I am 7 weeks and 1 day along.
Seven weeks and one day. That time period seems long and short at the same time. Is that possible?
I saw and heard you for the first time today. It was strangely surreal. My mother (your Lola) came with me to the Ob/Gyn, and we were both in the room when the nurse did the ultrasound, and they showed us your picture. You were a little flicker, a shimmer, an eyeblink. The nurse said you were the size of a lima bean. I heard your heartbeat over the monitor. It was so fast! Like you were so excited to be alive. I remember Mama and I both making noises when we heard you. Mama cried a little. I thought I would, but I didn't. I was happy though.
I called your Daddy after my appointment and told him how it all went. He's been sick the last few days and still a bit in shock about you coming. Well, let's be frank. He's in denial. But that's ok. I still love your Daddy and you should too.
* * *
So we should talk about your Daddy.
Next to you, he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. He really is. And what I'm about to tell you may not make it seem like it, but it's true.
He really doesn't want children. At this moment, he really doesn't want you. But I've told him that I want you enough for the both of us. I've always wanted you, even before I knew you existed, so you have nothing to worry about.
We talked about you a long time ago - what would we do? I told your Daddy that I've always wanted to have children, and I'm at an age (I'm 32 years old) where it's time that I start doing something about that. While I'd like to be in a stable relationship (marriage) where my partner also wants to have children and is ready, the stars don't always align. So if we were faced with a happy accident, my choice would be to bring that baby into the world. And now we're faced with that happy accident.
It really isn't happy for him. Your Daddy feels like he's not ready. He feels like he doesn't have enough money to support you. He also feels like the world is not exactly the happiest place to bring you into.
At the same time, it's already happened. I've made my choice, and I told him that I want him to go on this big adventure with me. But it's ultimately his choice to be around or to go away.
But don't worry. My prediction is that he'll get over his fears. While I'm prepared to raise you on my own, I didn't choose a dead-beat dad as the love of my life. He'll be around. You'll get to meet him. He's very handsome. He's really funny. He loves to play. And he gives the best hugs.
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