Promises

A couple of months ago my two daughters asked me how the baby is going to get out of my tummy. I explained both a vaginal and c-section delivery to them using terms and analogies that I thought were easiest for preschoolers to understand. I thought they would freak out about the baby coming out of mommy's "bottom" but they took that explanation in stride. They were much more concerned that a doctor could cut mommy's tummy and get the baby out. I'm not too fond of the c-section delivery either, so I told them that the baby would probably not come out that way.

Yesterday Jeff and the girls accompanied me on my day of doctors appointments and tests. We started the day with a ultrasound of our 38 week fetus to determine the baby's size. The ultrasound tech measured the baby's head at 41 weeks and the torso of the baby was too big to assign a gestational age to. This was not the news we hoped for.

After the ultrasound we went into the exam room for a meeting with my doctor. The girls sat down with paper and crayons while my doctor went over the risks of a vaginal delivery of a baby this size. It soon became very clear that the safest way to deliver this baby is by c-section. The girls seemed engrossed in their art projects, but I am sure they heard what was being said.

Last night when we were getting the kids ready for bed my 5-year old Belle said, "Mommy, I was thinking about something scary, but I don't want to tell Ariel because it might scare her too."

I told her that I thought that was a good idea and sent her to brush her teeth.

When it was time to put the girls in bed I could sense that something was bothering Belle. My insight had more to do with her atypical whining and crying than any mommy superhero powers that I may or may not possess. I asked Belle if she was worried about me. Her desire to be brave and strong melted as the tears poured down her cheeks.

She is afraid of the cut they will make in my belly.

She is afraid that I will be hurt.

She is afraid that I will not come home again.

I told her that the c-section is safer for me and the baby. I told her that they will give me medicine so I won't feel a thing. I told her that she can stay at the hospital with me for as long as she wants. I told her about all the nurses and doctors who will be taking care of me. I reminded her that Grammy is coming to stay with her. I asked her how long it took us to drive home from the hospital today. "Two minutes" she said. I tried to convince her that two minutes is not that far but still she cried and was afraid.

Jeff came over to her bed and did what he does best in these situations. He kissed her and gave her a zerbert. He made her laugh with his puppet hand. He distracted her while I crept out of the room.

This morning Belle awoke shortly after me. "I had bad dreams last night, Mommy. I don't remember most of them but I remember one."

"Tell me about the one you remember," I replied as I sat down so to look her in the eyes.

"My Mommy promised to never leave me but a bad monster came and took my Mommy away," she said without a trace of the fear and sadness that she displayed the night before. "But I know that you keep your promises and you will never leave me. Right Mommy?"

"Right honey"

I read recently that when kids have bad dreams it is a way for them to cope with their fears. I found it interesting that when Belle explained her dream she referred to me as "my Mommy". It was almost as if the person in her dream was not really me but just the dream version of me and when the dream version of her faced what Belle feared the most she realized how silly it was for her to be afraid of losing me. Because I promised I would never leave her and I always keep my promises.

How simple and wonderful it is to parent a preschooler who trusts you completely. I know one day she will realize that I am not worthy of that level of trust. One day she will see my faults more than my attributes. One day she will know that the promise to never leave is not mine to make. Until then I pray that my children will always have me and I will always have them.

I should be blogging.

I know it.

You know it.

You keep coming here to check in, only to find the same Thanksgiving pictures. 

I keep coming here to check my pregnancy ticker and find out how many weeks pregnant I am.

 
Yep, that's right. I use my blog to track my pregnancy. I cannot for the life of me remember how far along I am. During my first pregnancy I could tell you at any second exactly how pregnant I was. Everything was new and fresh.

Here I am five years later and all I know is that I will have a new baby in June. That is my answer when people ask me how far along I am.

"The baby will be here in June"

Not even an exact date. Just the month of June.

It's not that I care less about this pregnancy then any of my others. In fact I may treasure this pregnancy more. This is my last one. In my entire life I will never again have a first trimester and all the "fun" that goes with it. Knowing this makes the joys of pregnancy more joyful and the pains of pregnancy less painful.

But still I don't know how far along I am. I guess I dread counting the days because by counting them I acknowledge that this pregnancy will come to an end and I will be done experiencing the miracle of life inside of me. I will begin experiencing the joys of new life outside of me.

I can wait for that day. I am patient.

Thanks for being patient too.

Our Week: Thanksgiving

Playing Cooties with Grandma

Turkey, smurky. It's time for dessert.

This is her "I love it" face

Don't let the lack of plates fool you, Uncle K and Aunt S had some of my homemade apple pie. It was so good the gobbled it up.

Playing with Papa

Day 29

Saturday,
lazy day enjoying the company of the in-laws. I took my sewing machine in for repair. Operator error to blame. I was retrained at no charge. Christmas sewing to commence, but not tonight.

Pounding headache. Tired, many days of intense activity have caught up with me. It is 8:37 pm and I am hitting the sack to dream about NaBloPoMo's conclusion tomorrow.

Sweet dreams.

Flashback Friday: Stroller Talk

So Long My Friend

originally published Saturday Dec. 8, 2007

Today is an unexpectedly sad day in our house. My husband is cleaning our Peg Perego Pliko 3 stroller for *gasp* consignment.

I love this stroller. I have no good reason to keep it, we haven't used it in months. Belle will be 4 in January and Ariel is 2 1/2. Ariel is a big girl, and according to her, only babies ride in strollers. So the Peg is going where all good Pegs go, the consignment shop.

One of the benefits of buying a Peg is it's resale value, or at least that's what I told myself at the time. The real reason for the Peg? It's sexy, light weight, easy to maneuver, and frickin' cool. I was one of those mommies carrying a designer diaper bag, wearing makeup and working my designer jeans and impractical shoes. I didn't want my stroller hindering me in between racks of clothing at Nordstrom and Ann Taylor**. I had things to buy and other Mommies to strut my stuff with.

It really didn't last long. By the time Belle was 9 months old, I was pregnant with Ariel. Pretty soon my super sexy shoes were replaced by the comfort of Dansko. Not long after that, the jeans were stored away and I was donning maternity clothing. The stroller still rocked my world, but not because it was so cool, but because it was so easy.

I could put my baby Ariel in a sling, set up the stroller with one hand, put 18 month old Belle in the stroller and off we went. Except now we weren't strutting our stuff. We were rushing to the story time that had already started. We were meeting other overtired, rundown mommies of two at the park or mall play area. I was wearing a hat to cover my disheveled hair and sunglasses to hide my makeup-less eyes.

The true reason why I am going to miss this stroller is because it represents a short period of time when I was the Mommy I always wanted to be. The one with every hair in place, makeup perfectly done and wearing fashionable clothing. The Mommy who went to the mall to shop, for herself. The Mommy that didn't have to waste her time in a play area and wasn't negotiating with her restless kids so she could try on one article of clothing.

To me the Peg represents everything good in motherhood. A sleeping baby in a comfortable stroller while Mommy is shopping. Those were the days.


**Total side note: Did you see Ann Taylor makes maternity clothes?? Ann Taylor Maternity is a great reason to get knocked up!

Jeff and I were just talking about this stroller today. Now that I am knocked up (and not strictly for the Ann Taylor Maternity line) we are thinking about strollers again. We have thrown around the idea of getting a new peg. With our current lifestyle a durable, light weight single jogger with lockable front wheel and hand break would be ideal. I am not sure that one even exists. Does anyone have any recommendations?

Black Friday Makes Me Happy

Tomorrow I will be at the mall before the sun rises. I am so excited. Shopping on Black Friday is a new tradition for me. This is my third year. The first year I braved the stores with my mom, and it was fabulous. People were friendly, prices were good and I got to bond with my mom. Last year my step-mom went with me. After getting all our goods we sat down to a wonderful breakfast at the Nordstrom's cafe and really got to know each other. It was a turning point in our relationship.

Tomorrow my mother-in-law is waking up at the crack of dawn for some shopping and one-on-one time. I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to it.

From a shopping standpoint I have made a very short list of things to buy. A few necessities for the girls and birthday shopping for my husband. The most important man in my life turns thirty-three on Monday. Happy Birthday to him.

Personally I love early morning shopping because my kids and husband are sleeping. No one is going to notice or care when I spend an hour in Gymboree or Old Navy. Usually I feel guilty about shopping because it is time away from my kids and hard working husband. Black Friday is perfect "me" time, guilt free shopping for the people I love.