Newsletter – 14 weeks – beginning of the second trimester

Dear Kathleen –

I’ve seen many mothers do this on blogs, although usually they begin once the child is born.  I try not the think about the possibility that you may not be born, that something may go wrong, and though it would pain me to read over this if that were to happen, well it pains me more to skip it entirely.  It’s such a neat idea, and I hope I can continue it well into your little life, my baby – though dooce, a favorite mommy blogger, and amalah, another favorite – well, blogging is both of their jobs, whereas this mommy has to squeeze it into the cracks of her life.  That’s me, beginning the ride on the guilt train that all moms take, making excuses where none are required, holding myself up against other people and finding myself wanting.  I was hoping Mommy Guilt wouldn’t start until you were born.

But anyway, this newsletter is not about me, it’s about you.  I’ve called you Kathleen, but if you end up being a boy, I promise that won’t be your name.  We haven’t decided your name, not even Kathleen necessarily, but I had to put something in there and Imp just seemed to impersonal.  I’m really writing to you now, whoever you will be, and I want you to read this one day, and see how desperately much your mom loved you before she even saw your face.  It’s a very strange thing, to know that everywhere I go you are with me, and that everything I eat and everything I hear and when I’m cold and when I’m sick, you’re doing all those things too.  Right now, I’m never alone – but it’s ok, I don’t want to be.  It makes me very sad that you will remember absolutely none of it, because I’d really love for you to come out and tell me how nice it was in there, and what a cozy home I made for you, and how much you loved those spicy ribs that Uncle Clif slow grilled for us a few weekends ago.  I know my later indigestion was really just you knocking on my ribcage asking for more.

I heard your heartbeat two weeks ago.  Dad couldn’t come – we had lots of “fake out” doctor’s appointments that he skipped a lot of classes to come to, and when the “for real” appointment finally came, he had to miss it.  So it was just you and me and the midwife in there, and I’d like to say it was a magical moment, but really it was more surreal to hear the heartbeat of an independent entity coming out of my abdomen.  Of course we all know about babies and where they come from and where they grow, and I know what’s happening to me, but I didn’t really KNOW it until then.  Sometimes I still don’t, because you’ve stopped making me feel very sick (it’s ok little one, I didn’t mind), and I don’t look terribly different, and I can’t feel you moving, so sometimes life just feels normal to me, and I forget what a wonderful thing is going on under my very nose – er – bellybutton.  Very soon now, though, you’ll start to grow very quickly, and so will I, and then I’ll start to feel you swimming around, and then I think at last I’ll know what a fantastic and terrifying thing is about to happen to all three of us, you and me and Dad, and I’ll begin to feel more prepared, or less.

It’s the last day of October today, and I know when October next comes around you will be six months old, and baby that just blows my mind.  I truly can’t wait to meet you, Kathleen.  May 2008 cannot come fast enough.

Love,

Mama