Dear baby boy,
On Thursday May 24th we start week 40, you and me. If you don't show signs of making your way out into the world before then, I'll be at the hospital first thing Friday morning to start the process of inducing labor. Even though this pregnancy has gone remarkably well, my age and the fact that you are my first child puts us in the "high risk" category, which means the obstetrician doesn't want us going past 40 weeks.
We're mostly ready for you, dragon-baby. Your father had hoped you'd arrive Sunday May 20th for the solar eclipse, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. This gives me a few more days to finish up some things I am hoping to complete before you arrive.
There is a fair amount of anxiety floating around in the house these days. Your father and I are feeling nervous and afraid. We've completed the environmental preparations for your arrival -- clothes, diapers, a place to sleep, breastfeeding supplies, etc -- but mentally and emotionally we've both admitted we're afraid we're not ready for parenthood. We're set in our ways, I admit it, and we like the way our life together has been running the past few years. We're content together, our relationship works very well, and we have a lot of freedom. And that is changing soon -- as soon as you arrive.
But even more than the fear of lifestyle changes and the fears of possible parental inadequacy, there is a fear your father and I haven't talked about. The fear that something might happen during childbirth, to you, or to me.
So in some way the purposes of writing this letter is to address the possibility, however slim, that I might not be around to raise you. There. I said it. After my brush with my own mortality and the deaths of three other family members the past few years, I'm pretty ok with death and dying. Or at least I thought I was. But deciding to bring you into this world, choosing to become a parent -- well, that has changed quite a lot. It's not all about me anymore, whether I live or die. I've made the commitment to be a mother and that means my life isn't my own anymore. You are wholly dependent on me, both while in the womb and for months (years) after you're born. And I'm afraid, more than anything else, that I won't be there for you.
Your father had a really difficult time of it when I was so sick with septicemia -- witnessing the fact that I'd almost died scared him, affected him deeply. It changed our relationship significantly, brought things into sharp focus. It isn't until you face the prospect of losing someone that you realize how important they are to you. In the months that followed we chose each other, chose to take what lies between us more seriously, and that is a powerful thing. Powerful enough to create the possibility of you. I worry about how your father will handle things if something happens to me as a result of childbirth. He's a good man, a deeply sensitive and caring man, and I worry about how devastated he'd be if I died. And how that devastation would impact his ability to care for you.
The odds are in our favor, of course, and it's unlikely this fear of mine will come to pass, but over the years I've learned to face my fears head-on rather than run and hide from them. My own mother is gone and all I have are memories, and I know that in the event that I die while you are still an infant, you won't even have memories of me.
Oh, there will be some photos, and some recordings of my voice, and a fairly significant body of writing both personal and professional -- so I think when you're older you'll have an idea of the person I am as of today. And hopefully the mother I would have been...
A week from now I hope I'll feel silly for writing this. I'll
probably chalk it off to pregnancy hormones and a healthy dose of fear.
Still, it's all worth saying, and better said than not.
If I didn't write this now, you wouldn't know about the hours I've spent rubbing you through my belly, or the time I've spent telling you silly little anecdotes about my sisters and my grandparents. You wouldn't know how much I've come to love you, love the feel of you moving inside me -- you -- the embodiment of the love and possibility that exists between your father and me. You might not know that even though I didn't plan on having children, didn't really think I wanted children -- that I want you, and that I'm looking forward to building a new life around you with your father.
I would want you to know that your father makes me laugh like no one else can, and that he and I have had a deep emotional bond for 8 years now -- a good, solid basis to build a relationship as parents on. That I have freckles on my nose and a mole on my upper arm and a widow's peak inherited from my father's mother. If you like your nose it means you got your father's nose, or my
mother's nose -- because I've got my dad's nose and I don't like it much
:) I want you to know that if your taste in music is different from your father's -- if you end up liking jazz and blues and tribal beats -- it's because I listened to it when you were in the womb. If you're good at math and piano you get it from your father, and if you can't pick up playing musical instruments no matter how many lessons you've had, you get that from me. (Sorry!)
I'd want you to know that I don't have a favorite color. When I was a little girl and the other kids were picking favorite colors it occurred to me to feel sorry for the colors that weren't chosen, so I never picked one. My color preferences are mostly dictated by my mood. I don't have a favorite flower or food, either. I tend to live in the moment, and appreciate whatever is here in this moment -- something that having preferences or favorites can interfere with. Your father and I both learned to read very young, so you probably will, too. My favorite books from childhood are the stories of Winnie-the-Pooh, and The Warm Fuzzy Story, and the stories of Pippie Longstocking, Sinbad the Sailor, and Puff the Magic Dragon. Your father will probably start you on Tolkein. I hope you like his work, but if you don't, your father will blame me :) If the Disney movies terrified you when you were little, that's on me as well. I took things very literally when I was a child. If you don't like TV or movies much -- if you'd rather read or otherwise feed your brain you get that from me -- but be a good boy and try to sit through your father's shows with him. He will appreciate the effort.
Most of all, I'm a loving, affectionate person. I love hugging, snuggling, and massaging the people I care for. If something goes wrong, I just want you to know that I am so looking forward to splashing love and joy and affection all over you, and it makes me very sad to think we might miss out on that.
There are other things I'd want you to know, things I've learned over the years. For example: You don't get what you don't ask for. * Life can be tough at times, and we're all in this together, so don't forget to ask for help when you need it. * Be clever if you can, but never forget to be kind. * Don't let anyone tell you that there is something wrong with you--you're perfect and complete just the way you are, and everything you need to be happy is already inside you. * Love isn't something to be hoarded. Instead, love like you're trying to give all the love inside you away by the end of the day--you'll be full again in the morning, I promise, and you and the people in your life will be better off for it. * People are more alike than they are different, and if you remember that, you'll always have common ground. * Your only limitations are the ones you believe in. * It's ok to be afraid--everyone is afraid--but most fears are creations of your own mind, so don't let them get in your way. * The only regrets people tend to have in life are the things they didn't do. * It's ok to make mistakes. Mistakes are often acts of creation. Just remember to own up to them and make amends when you can. * Your thoughts and attitudes are creative and causal forces in your life--as you think, so you are and so your life is. * Own your present and your future: Be the change you want to see in the world and it will come to pass. * Be playful. * Be grateful. * And most of all, Be Happy. *
Love,
Mom
Showing posts with label letters to baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letters to baby. Show all posts
Monday, May 21, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Letter #4 to my unborn son
So we're at 34 weeks today, you and me. I was pretty confident we'd make it all the way to the 39 week mark, but today, I'm not so sure. I had another breathless and lightheaded episode at the doctor's office when I was laying on my back for a few minutes for heartbeat monitoring. It took me 30 minutes to recover so I could drive home. I'm waking up at night with tingly arms and that breathless feeling, usually because I've rolled over onto my back in my sleep. You're getting on my nerves and my veins, apparently.
The monthly ultrasound looks normal (still no sign of your super-powers) and our obstetrician says that babies delivered by storks is a myth. I was wondering why it wasn't an option on the birth plan! My goal right now is to get through week 37, when you're considered full-term. So far I'm not experiencing any of the serious symptoms that women tend to experience in the last final trimester, and that's really good news for us both. I lost 3 pounds in the last 4 weeks, somehow. I'm not really trying to lose weight, just maintain. You're taking up so much room inside me I figured I'd gained another 5, but nope, I lost three, so we're at 9 pounds net gain, five of which is just you.
We've been accumulating baby gear from family and friends, the baby registry, and Craig's List. Boy, babies are expensive endeavors! It helps that I'm naturally frugal and love second-hand and home-made gifts, but I know you're going to have a significant impact on our household budget. We really need to get a family car, since the two-seater won't fit the three of us, and my old GMC Jimmy is on it's last legs. Let's hope that promotion your father applied for comes through this month, since the increase in salary should more than cover your baby-related expenses.
You're going to be a fidgeter like your father, I think. You're wiggling all over the place. I'm doing those fetal NST's twice a week now, and sometimes you squirm off the monitor. Unless we were up all night, in which case all you want to do is sleep and the test takes an hour instead of 20 minutes because you won't move.
I'm reading all these birthing books and parenting books and what to expect books and, well, I'm saturated. Babies don't come with instruction manuals, so people try to help each other out with all sorts of advice, but I'm at the point now where I recognize that so much depends on you, and the kind of baby you're going to be. Are you going to be demanding and colicy, or quiet and beatific? As a newborn will you have a healthy constitution (like your father), or will you be sickly (like I was)? So many questions -- but they'll be answered soon enough.
I'm looking forward to you joining us next month. I should get around to packing the bag for the hospital soon. Just 5 more weeks, at most!
The monthly ultrasound looks normal (still no sign of your super-powers) and our obstetrician says that babies delivered by storks is a myth. I was wondering why it wasn't an option on the birth plan! My goal right now is to get through week 37, when you're considered full-term. So far I'm not experiencing any of the serious symptoms that women tend to experience in the last final trimester, and that's really good news for us both. I lost 3 pounds in the last 4 weeks, somehow. I'm not really trying to lose weight, just maintain. You're taking up so much room inside me I figured I'd gained another 5, but nope, I lost three, so we're at 9 pounds net gain, five of which is just you.
We've been accumulating baby gear from family and friends, the baby registry, and Craig's List. Boy, babies are expensive endeavors! It helps that I'm naturally frugal and love second-hand and home-made gifts, but I know you're going to have a significant impact on our household budget. We really need to get a family car, since the two-seater won't fit the three of us, and my old GMC Jimmy is on it's last legs. Let's hope that promotion your father applied for comes through this month, since the increase in salary should more than cover your baby-related expenses.
You're going to be a fidgeter like your father, I think. You're wiggling all over the place. I'm doing those fetal NST's twice a week now, and sometimes you squirm off the monitor. Unless we were up all night, in which case all you want to do is sleep and the test takes an hour instead of 20 minutes because you won't move.
I'm reading all these birthing books and parenting books and what to expect books and, well, I'm saturated. Babies don't come with instruction manuals, so people try to help each other out with all sorts of advice, but I'm at the point now where I recognize that so much depends on you, and the kind of baby you're going to be. Are you going to be demanding and colicy, or quiet and beatific? As a newborn will you have a healthy constitution (like your father), or will you be sickly (like I was)? So many questions -- but they'll be answered soon enough.
I'm looking forward to you joining us next month. I should get around to packing the bag for the hospital soon. Just 5 more weeks, at most!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Letter #3 to my unborn son
Little One,
In 7 weeks you'll be joining us, and your father and I are getting ready for your arrival.
A friend loaned us a book regarding childbirth, called A Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth. I thought reading it would help alleviate my anxiety, but it hasn't -- in some ways it's made it worse. There are so many pros and cons with things like epidurals, inducing labor, episiotomies, obstetricians, midwives, etc. Everyone has an opinion. Some opinions are even based on facts. But the more I read about childbirth, the more I realize that modern medicine has interfered so deeply with women's reproductive matters that we've lost or come to distrust thousands of years of knowledge of something that is innate to us. Childbirth is a natural event that is treated more like a medical emergency waiting to happen, and I guess that is what has me so nervous about the birthing process. Honestly, I'd like to skip over that part and just have you delivered via stork, ok?
We've bought the infant car seat and the stroller for you -- we found a great, gently used Chicco Cortina travel system on Craig's List for 1/3 the cost of new. Your Grandpa Stan went with me to pick it up from a couple who are at Stanford University.
The gifts are coming in from the baby registry we set up on Amazon.com, and we've been getting wonderful items second-hand from friends, some with the tags still on them. Your Great Aunt Marsha sent a bib with a power-tie printed on the front, and a cute little sailor suit, and of course, a little golfer's outfit. My best friend from Junior High days sent a big box of toys and clothes, and two baby carriers. Your father's friend, David, and his partner, Lynn, brought over some of their favorites from their son's infancy, too. Their boy is 18 months and growing so fast! I know you'll be doing the same. I have some friends who are wonderful at knitting and crocheting, so we've got some beautiful little jackets and hats made with love just for you.
Meanwhile your, Grandfather has really been working hard with us to finish up the landscaping projects we've had going, especially the side-yard gravel-to-paver project. When you're walking around next summer I won't worry about you falling and getting hurt on that sharp-edged gravel anymore. The exterior of your home is shaping up very nicely, though the interior is in a minor state of disarray, thanks to a leak in the master bath. The good news is we've discovered a closet that was abandoned during a renovation. We've just got to figure out how we're going to make it useful and aesthetically pleasing once again.
You're going through your growth spurt right now, and for the first time in my life, I'm anemic. Your expanding circulatory system and red blood cells require lots of iron, so I'm having to supplement my prenatal vitamins with additional iron. I'll probably be doing that for several months, while you're nursing, too.
You're starting to crowd my lungs. I can't take deep breaths anymore, but I'm not feeling short of breath so far, so that is something to be thankful for. In addition to my lungs being crowded, so is my stomach. A lot of food just isn't agreeing with me these days, and vomiting hurts, so I'm eating a lot of yogurt and cottage cheese and blueberries and protein drinks and protein bars. My weight gain so far is at about 10 lbs, but I'm noticing that while my breasts and belly are growing, other areas are shrinking a bit. So far, there are no signs of gestational diabetes or pre-eclampsia, and my blood-pressure is very good. Sleeping for more than 3 hours at a time is nearly impossible now. I suppose it's one way for me to get ready for napping between feedings.
Jasper the kitten isn't very kittenish anymore. He's 8 months old now and weighs 9 lbs. We're hoping he outgrows his adolescent phase before you arrive, because he's a bit aggressively playful. He's fun and sweet and cuddly and he'll be a good companion animal for you when you're both older. I'm not sure how he's going to deal with competition for my breasts, though. They seem to be his favorite place to curl up for a nap.
Your father is being very good to me. I can't wait for the two of you to meet each other. He's such a wonderful, gentle-hearted man, and I think he's going to fall for you pretty hard. He's planning on taking all 7 weeks of his paternity leave so he can spend as much time with us as he can. As it is he's doing everything he can to help me with my physical discomfort right now, and he's great about joining me when I lay down for a nap so I can snuggle and rest. Snuggling up with him is like coming home. You'll understand what I mean some day soon, I'm sure.
Time for bed.
See you in 7 weeks, maybe sooner.
Mom
In 7 weeks you'll be joining us, and your father and I are getting ready for your arrival.
A friend loaned us a book regarding childbirth, called A Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth. I thought reading it would help alleviate my anxiety, but it hasn't -- in some ways it's made it worse. There are so many pros and cons with things like epidurals, inducing labor, episiotomies, obstetricians, midwives, etc. Everyone has an opinion. Some opinions are even based on facts. But the more I read about childbirth, the more I realize that modern medicine has interfered so deeply with women's reproductive matters that we've lost or come to distrust thousands of years of knowledge of something that is innate to us. Childbirth is a natural event that is treated more like a medical emergency waiting to happen, and I guess that is what has me so nervous about the birthing process. Honestly, I'd like to skip over that part and just have you delivered via stork, ok?
We've bought the infant car seat and the stroller for you -- we found a great, gently used Chicco Cortina travel system on Craig's List for 1/3 the cost of new. Your Grandpa Stan went with me to pick it up from a couple who are at Stanford University.
The gifts are coming in from the baby registry we set up on Amazon.com, and we've been getting wonderful items second-hand from friends, some with the tags still on them. Your Great Aunt Marsha sent a bib with a power-tie printed on the front, and a cute little sailor suit, and of course, a little golfer's outfit. My best friend from Junior High days sent a big box of toys and clothes, and two baby carriers. Your father's friend, David, and his partner, Lynn, brought over some of their favorites from their son's infancy, too. Their boy is 18 months and growing so fast! I know you'll be doing the same. I have some friends who are wonderful at knitting and crocheting, so we've got some beautiful little jackets and hats made with love just for you.
Meanwhile your, Grandfather has really been working hard with us to finish up the landscaping projects we've had going, especially the side-yard gravel-to-paver project. When you're walking around next summer I won't worry about you falling and getting hurt on that sharp-edged gravel anymore. The exterior of your home is shaping up very nicely, though the interior is in a minor state of disarray, thanks to a leak in the master bath. The good news is we've discovered a closet that was abandoned during a renovation. We've just got to figure out how we're going to make it useful and aesthetically pleasing once again.
You're going through your growth spurt right now, and for the first time in my life, I'm anemic. Your expanding circulatory system and red blood cells require lots of iron, so I'm having to supplement my prenatal vitamins with additional iron. I'll probably be doing that for several months, while you're nursing, too.
You're starting to crowd my lungs. I can't take deep breaths anymore, but I'm not feeling short of breath so far, so that is something to be thankful for. In addition to my lungs being crowded, so is my stomach. A lot of food just isn't agreeing with me these days, and vomiting hurts, so I'm eating a lot of yogurt and cottage cheese and blueberries and protein drinks and protein bars. My weight gain so far is at about 10 lbs, but I'm noticing that while my breasts and belly are growing, other areas are shrinking a bit. So far, there are no signs of gestational diabetes or pre-eclampsia, and my blood-pressure is very good. Sleeping for more than 3 hours at a time is nearly impossible now. I suppose it's one way for me to get ready for napping between feedings.
Jasper the kitten isn't very kittenish anymore. He's 8 months old now and weighs 9 lbs. We're hoping he outgrows his adolescent phase before you arrive, because he's a bit aggressively playful. He's fun and sweet and cuddly and he'll be a good companion animal for you when you're both older. I'm not sure how he's going to deal with competition for my breasts, though. They seem to be his favorite place to curl up for a nap.
Your father is being very good to me. I can't wait for the two of you to meet each other. He's such a wonderful, gentle-hearted man, and I think he's going to fall for you pretty hard. He's planning on taking all 7 weeks of his paternity leave so he can spend as much time with us as he can. As it is he's doing everything he can to help me with my physical discomfort right now, and he's great about joining me when I lay down for a nap so I can snuggle and rest. Snuggling up with him is like coming home. You'll understand what I mean some day soon, I'm sure.
Time for bed.
See you in 7 weeks, maybe sooner.
Mom
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Letter #2 to my unborn son
Darling boy,
We are in week 26 of our journey together, the start of the third trimester, and you will arrive in 12 to 13 weeks. For silly reasons of my own I am hoping that you arrive after May 20th, though that may change as you grow larger and the rigors of pregnancy take their toll.
In the past three weeks my body has changed significantly. I definitely have a belly now, and I notice it most when I'm out for a walk. I have to ask your father to slow down now, because when I try to keep up with him I get a cramp :) As each day goes by I am able to exert myself less without cramps or aches. I notice it most when I'm working in the garden. Even with tools I'm having to take things easy, and I can't assume that I'll be able to do as much from one day to the next. I'm staying as active as I can without risking our safety.
Most days it feels like Spring, which is good, because I'm not feeling as chilled as I was just a few weeks ago. The primroses I planted last year are re-blooming, and the red cyclamen are still growing strong. They are the same color of red as the front door. I've noticed that the wisteria has dozens of flower buds that seem to be swelling a little bit every day. The jasmine are really growing, and the scented rose is leafing out. The plum tree in back is just starting to show it's white blossoms, and in a few weeks, so will the peach tree. The lemon verbena is putting out some leaves now. I'd feared it died in last month's unusual chill. I love the lemon smell and once it is strong again, I'll transplant it into the same flower bed as the rosemary and lavender bushes. I've also got a bird-of-paradise plant to put in between the bottle-brush tree and the mandarin tree at the edge of the patio. In a few years it's orange and red and blue flowers will tie-in the colors of the two trees, and fill the space between them with beautiful foliage. I hope you'll inherit my love of plants, and help me in the garden as you grow.
Hopefully by the end of February the work at the front of the house will be done. We're putting in irrigation and replacing the 60 year old lawn. When that work is done I'll be planting hostas, ferns and astilbe in the flowerbed under the living room windows, and the weeping cherry blossom trees will be planted at the yard's edge, near the sidewalk. In late March your grandfather on your father's side will be coming to stay for a bit, and we'll work on the side yard together. The gravel that was put in by the previous owners is black with sharp edges--pretty enough, but it's not safe for you--and we'll replace it with pavers, thus extending the patio area into a space that will be cool and shady on warm summer afternoons.
Sleeping is becoming more of a challenge, which isn't unexpected. It's a struggle to sleep on my side. I'm constantly waking up on my back with tingly nerve feelings in my legs. I am grateful for the tempurpedic bed, because otherwise I'd be sore and sleepless most of the time.
I'm trying not to obsess too much about the world you're being born into, and I'm trying not to let the sadness, anger, and despair I sometimes feel stick around for too long. I know that the biochemical soup you're swimming in can be affected by my stress, and thus affects you.
The world is in a sorry state, though. Carbon dioxide emissions have jumped tremendously, beyond the worst-case scenarios of many scientists. The oceans are acidifying because of carbon dioxide build-up, and the glaciers and polar ice are melting far more rapidly than predicted. When the rest of the world appears to be in agreement that we all need to limit CO2 emissions and wean off oil, the US, dominated as it is by oil-company-interests and lobbyists, seems determined to believe that we're the smart ones and the rest of the world has been suckered by a hoax (roll eyes). Here in the States we've picked up the pace of natural gas extraction using techniques called "fracking", techniques that pump millions of gallons of water and chemicals into the ground to liberate the gas. The problem is, it's polluting ground-water, and drinking water is already in short supply world-wide. How terribly short-sighted of us.
Southern Europe is in a financial crises, and seeing as Italy accounts for nearly 20% of the GDP for the EU, it cannot be allowed to fail. However, the corrupt politicians and even more corrupt mafia are making people extremely reluctant to co-operate with austerity measures. Greece is on fire, literally. The people of Greece are protesting the way the world banks and the European Union are handling that nation's debt crisis -- a problem created with the help of Goldman Sachs, who helped Greece's politicians conceal it's debts so it could get into the EU in the first place.
I'm not sure what the Internet is going to look like for you when you're old enough to use it. Powerful lobbies are at work to make it easier to monetize media traffic and invade people's privacy in the name of copyright and IP protection. Between that and the increasing amount of money that corporations are pouring into PACs which influence the political landscape, I half-fear that Neal Stephenson's novel Snow Crash will be far more prophetic than any of us will like. Will you come into adulthood living in a corporate enclave in a corporate town policed by corporate security in an America in which the line between the haves and have-nots is sharply delineated? Or will you grow up in Canada, your father's homeland, because we had to flee the insanity here in the US? I don't know, but more and more it is looking like it may be a necessary option.
Everywhere in the world there is ideological oppression of one sort or another. Right now in the US women's rights are being targeted by politicians on the Right, hoping somehow to invigorate their conservative Christian base to get out and vote in November. The Republicans are having their primaries and caucuses right now, and it looks like less than 5% of eligible voters are actually showing up at the polls. I think all the negative super-PAC ads and attacks are alienating all voters, regardless of party. And I'm not sure this is accidental. It is in corporate interests to keep voter participation to a minimum. It is easier to control for a smaller electorate than a large, active one. It costs them less money to buy votes and politicians that way, and they've a much better chance of making sure things go their way.
Currently we're embroiled in a health care debate over whether or not employers should be required to provide health insurance that covers prescription contraceptives. The argument is it violates the freedom of religion in this country. The irony is that the Founding Fathers weren't concerned with preserving religious freedom from government interference. They were concerned about keeping religion OUT of government. Most of them were Deists, and most of them were appalled by the control that the various religious sects exerted over their congregations, cities, counties, and even states. The Christians of a couple of hundred years ago were not shy about running people out of town if they weren't of the same denomination, and weren't shy about trying to expand theocracy, which the Founding Fathers considered antithetical to their Enlightenment-Period beliefs and values. But most Americans are woefully ignorant of what happened yesterday, never mind what happened 200 or 300 years ago. Most are sheeple who are willing to believe what someone else spoon-feeds them, as long as it is dressed up to suit their ideological bent. It's sad, and discouraging, and frankly, disgusting.
But for all that, I am hopeful. I'm looking for ways to make the world a better place for you. I'm working on developing community in our neighborhood. I'm planting fruits and vegetables on our property and helping in Rachel's community garden. I'm looking at ways to develop and expand the Green Economy. I envision a world in which people live in harmony with the planet. A world in which every person lives a sustainable lifestyle and every company does business in a sustainable way. I believe it is possible for humanity to leap toward a new level of consciousness that unites, rather than divides us. If I didn't think it was possible to turn the tide of the world toward such things, I could not bring you into it. I hope when the time comes that you're self-aware and world-aware that you won't hate the older generations for what we've done, and what we've failed to do. I hope, I really hope, to make this a better world for you.
Love,
Mom
We are in week 26 of our journey together, the start of the third trimester, and you will arrive in 12 to 13 weeks. For silly reasons of my own I am hoping that you arrive after May 20th, though that may change as you grow larger and the rigors of pregnancy take their toll.
In the past three weeks my body has changed significantly. I definitely have a belly now, and I notice it most when I'm out for a walk. I have to ask your father to slow down now, because when I try to keep up with him I get a cramp :) As each day goes by I am able to exert myself less without cramps or aches. I notice it most when I'm working in the garden. Even with tools I'm having to take things easy, and I can't assume that I'll be able to do as much from one day to the next. I'm staying as active as I can without risking our safety.
Most days it feels like Spring, which is good, because I'm not feeling as chilled as I was just a few weeks ago. The primroses I planted last year are re-blooming, and the red cyclamen are still growing strong. They are the same color of red as the front door. I've noticed that the wisteria has dozens of flower buds that seem to be swelling a little bit every day. The jasmine are really growing, and the scented rose is leafing out. The plum tree in back is just starting to show it's white blossoms, and in a few weeks, so will the peach tree. The lemon verbena is putting out some leaves now. I'd feared it died in last month's unusual chill. I love the lemon smell and once it is strong again, I'll transplant it into the same flower bed as the rosemary and lavender bushes. I've also got a bird-of-paradise plant to put in between the bottle-brush tree and the mandarin tree at the edge of the patio. In a few years it's orange and red and blue flowers will tie-in the colors of the two trees, and fill the space between them with beautiful foliage. I hope you'll inherit my love of plants, and help me in the garden as you grow.
Hopefully by the end of February the work at the front of the house will be done. We're putting in irrigation and replacing the 60 year old lawn. When that work is done I'll be planting hostas, ferns and astilbe in the flowerbed under the living room windows, and the weeping cherry blossom trees will be planted at the yard's edge, near the sidewalk. In late March your grandfather on your father's side will be coming to stay for a bit, and we'll work on the side yard together. The gravel that was put in by the previous owners is black with sharp edges--pretty enough, but it's not safe for you--and we'll replace it with pavers, thus extending the patio area into a space that will be cool and shady on warm summer afternoons.
Sleeping is becoming more of a challenge, which isn't unexpected. It's a struggle to sleep on my side. I'm constantly waking up on my back with tingly nerve feelings in my legs. I am grateful for the tempurpedic bed, because otherwise I'd be sore and sleepless most of the time.
I'm trying not to obsess too much about the world you're being born into, and I'm trying not to let the sadness, anger, and despair I sometimes feel stick around for too long. I know that the biochemical soup you're swimming in can be affected by my stress, and thus affects you.
The world is in a sorry state, though. Carbon dioxide emissions have jumped tremendously, beyond the worst-case scenarios of many scientists. The oceans are acidifying because of carbon dioxide build-up, and the glaciers and polar ice are melting far more rapidly than predicted. When the rest of the world appears to be in agreement that we all need to limit CO2 emissions and wean off oil, the US, dominated as it is by oil-company-interests and lobbyists, seems determined to believe that we're the smart ones and the rest of the world has been suckered by a hoax (roll eyes). Here in the States we've picked up the pace of natural gas extraction using techniques called "fracking", techniques that pump millions of gallons of water and chemicals into the ground to liberate the gas. The problem is, it's polluting ground-water, and drinking water is already in short supply world-wide. How terribly short-sighted of us.
Southern Europe is in a financial crises, and seeing as Italy accounts for nearly 20% of the GDP for the EU, it cannot be allowed to fail. However, the corrupt politicians and even more corrupt mafia are making people extremely reluctant to co-operate with austerity measures. Greece is on fire, literally. The people of Greece are protesting the way the world banks and the European Union are handling that nation's debt crisis -- a problem created with the help of Goldman Sachs, who helped Greece's politicians conceal it's debts so it could get into the EU in the first place.
I'm not sure what the Internet is going to look like for you when you're old enough to use it. Powerful lobbies are at work to make it easier to monetize media traffic and invade people's privacy in the name of copyright and IP protection. Between that and the increasing amount of money that corporations are pouring into PACs which influence the political landscape, I half-fear that Neal Stephenson's novel Snow Crash will be far more prophetic than any of us will like. Will you come into adulthood living in a corporate enclave in a corporate town policed by corporate security in an America in which the line between the haves and have-nots is sharply delineated? Or will you grow up in Canada, your father's homeland, because we had to flee the insanity here in the US? I don't know, but more and more it is looking like it may be a necessary option.
Everywhere in the world there is ideological oppression of one sort or another. Right now in the US women's rights are being targeted by politicians on the Right, hoping somehow to invigorate their conservative Christian base to get out and vote in November. The Republicans are having their primaries and caucuses right now, and it looks like less than 5% of eligible voters are actually showing up at the polls. I think all the negative super-PAC ads and attacks are alienating all voters, regardless of party. And I'm not sure this is accidental. It is in corporate interests to keep voter participation to a minimum. It is easier to control for a smaller electorate than a large, active one. It costs them less money to buy votes and politicians that way, and they've a much better chance of making sure things go their way.
Currently we're embroiled in a health care debate over whether or not employers should be required to provide health insurance that covers prescription contraceptives. The argument is it violates the freedom of religion in this country. The irony is that the Founding Fathers weren't concerned with preserving religious freedom from government interference. They were concerned about keeping religion OUT of government. Most of them were Deists, and most of them were appalled by the control that the various religious sects exerted over their congregations, cities, counties, and even states. The Christians of a couple of hundred years ago were not shy about running people out of town if they weren't of the same denomination, and weren't shy about trying to expand theocracy, which the Founding Fathers considered antithetical to their Enlightenment-Period beliefs and values. But most Americans are woefully ignorant of what happened yesterday, never mind what happened 200 or 300 years ago. Most are sheeple who are willing to believe what someone else spoon-feeds them, as long as it is dressed up to suit their ideological bent. It's sad, and discouraging, and frankly, disgusting.
But for all that, I am hopeful. I'm looking for ways to make the world a better place for you. I'm working on developing community in our neighborhood. I'm planting fruits and vegetables on our property and helping in Rachel's community garden. I'm looking at ways to develop and expand the Green Economy. I envision a world in which people live in harmony with the planet. A world in which every person lives a sustainable lifestyle and every company does business in a sustainable way. I believe it is possible for humanity to leap toward a new level of consciousness that unites, rather than divides us. If I didn't think it was possible to turn the tide of the world toward such things, I could not bring you into it. I hope when the time comes that you're self-aware and world-aware that you won't hate the older generations for what we've done, and what we've failed to do. I hope, I really hope, to make this a better world for you.
Love,
Mom
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Letter #1 to my unborn son
Dear Baby Boy,
In this, our 23rd week together, you are making your presence known, even though I am not obviously pregnant-looking yet. I can feel you moving around, though at this point I can't tell if you are contra-dancing or taiko drumming -- it feels like both sometimes.
It seems like you are going to have your father's sweet-tooth, based on all the sweets-related cravings I'm experiencing right now. In the interests of keeping both of us healthy, however, I'm doing my best to resist. I want to keep my weight and blood-sugar levels down so there's no gestational diabetes or toxemia -- so help me out here and crave chopped salads again, ok?
Gifts from the baby registry have already started arriving. In less than four months you'll be wearing some of these things. They look so tiny, these clothes, which makes the thought of giving birth to you a little less scary, but also makes me fear my natural clumsiness, which is in full-force these days. Babies don't bounce when dropped ;)
I'm avoiding chemicals as much as I can, eating organic as much as I can afford. No artificial sweeteners, no foods nuked in plastic containers, no drinks from plastic bottles. The geneticist and biochemist in me is wary of the possible effects of man-made chemicals on you. Your father has taken over the chemical-related yard duties and even some of the cleaning, too.
Soon we'll start setting up the nursery-zone in my bedroom. I know it seems a bit late in the game to some people, but I've only known you were coming for about 6 weeks now. I want to keep you near for at least the first year, so it will be a while before you get a room of your own.
Love,
Mama
PS: Thanks for letting me sleep through the night last night.
In this, our 23rd week together, you are making your presence known, even though I am not obviously pregnant-looking yet. I can feel you moving around, though at this point I can't tell if you are contra-dancing or taiko drumming -- it feels like both sometimes.
It seems like you are going to have your father's sweet-tooth, based on all the sweets-related cravings I'm experiencing right now. In the interests of keeping both of us healthy, however, I'm doing my best to resist. I want to keep my weight and blood-sugar levels down so there's no gestational diabetes or toxemia -- so help me out here and crave chopped salads again, ok?
Gifts from the baby registry have already started arriving. In less than four months you'll be wearing some of these things. They look so tiny, these clothes, which makes the thought of giving birth to you a little less scary, but also makes me fear my natural clumsiness, which is in full-force these days. Babies don't bounce when dropped ;)
I'm avoiding chemicals as much as I can, eating organic as much as I can afford. No artificial sweeteners, no foods nuked in plastic containers, no drinks from plastic bottles. The geneticist and biochemist in me is wary of the possible effects of man-made chemicals on you. Your father has taken over the chemical-related yard duties and even some of the cleaning, too.
Soon we'll start setting up the nursery-zone in my bedroom. I know it seems a bit late in the game to some people, but I've only known you were coming for about 6 weeks now. I want to keep you near for at least the first year, so it will be a while before you get a room of your own.
Love,
Mama
PS: Thanks for letting me sleep through the night last night.
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