Week 39: Dreams of My Daughter

Well, that’s it… unless this little one makes a break for it this weekend, we are scheduled to meet her on Wednesday, June 29th at 10AM.  I’m super excited about it, a little scared, worried that I’ll mess something really important up and overall… OVERJOYED.

I’ve been wracked with weird dreams lately… most of them I can’t remember fully but always remembering that in them, I meet some version of this little cherub.  Sometimes good and leaves me feeling refreshed when I wake up and of course there are the dreams that leave me with a sinking feeling in my stomach that I did something drastically wrong.

I’ve been learning to be easier on myself with all that I think might have gone wrong with this pregnancy.  But at the end of the day – I took all my medicines every single day – give or take 5 or so days out of 10 months.  I tried to eat as healthily as I could and manage my cravings for things I shouldn’t have like sugar or excessive fat.  I made a concerted effort to sleep on my left side for the last 10 months to increase the oxygen and blood flow to her.  I lessened activity and started wearing flats around the 8th month so as to take it easy on myself.  I mean… I know that most mothers think this in the back of their heads but… crack whores give birth to healthy babies and don’t even try HALF AS MUCH effort.  Not that this should be the standard.   But the point being that I shouldn’t assume that everything will be wrong with this little one.  I did my very best.  And judging by how active and the measurements despite the adversities…. I didn’t do poorly.  She looks to be about 7lbs when she comes out this week – which is a good size especially considering I was battling GD and the risk was that she’d come out too big.  Her lung functionality should be in place because last week wednesday her L/S level was at 2.3 which should put her at above 2.5 when she comes out this week so, hopefully no NICU for her.  The blood flow to her brain ratio was 1.09 on Thursday which impressed the doctor – after we worried that the blood clots that were forming in the placenta might hinder some of that.  And overall… she’s been a calm (yet active), happy little someone in there.  We’ve both not gone through mood swings (except when it related to talks about my mom and grandma and how much I miss them).  Cravings were under control.  I have yet to see my feet swell from edema.  Not one mention of “bedrest” when I was sure I’d be laid up.

This? has been a GREAT pregnancy and I had wonderful professionals holding my hand down this path.  Even when they would frustrate the hell out of me with their sometimes lack of communication… they knew what they were doing and made sure I walked the right path to assure this little one’s arrival.

What a difference 2 years can make.  This time in 2009… I was recovering from my abdominal myomectomy.  What held up position in my uterus right prior were 14 useless masses of stunted growth and dreams deferred… stress and poor living.  Making it impossible to conceive and sustain.  Since them being cleared out and going through one failed round of IVF… Here I am – naturally conceived this little one… and grew her up…  Despite  the pitfalls…. Placental Previa.  Gestational Diabetes. Thrombophila.  Anemia. Clots in the Placenta. 4 Fibroids growing in there with her.   Despite all of that… she dances and twirls and poses for paparazzi when we do our ultrasound and even smiles.

THANK YOU LORD!!!  All things truly balance out in the world.  You promised me that after rain and the darkest night, I’d see the light and glory if I remained faithful.  All glory goes to you, GOD.  THANK YOU for this AMAZING gift.  I am HUMBLED and GRATEFUL!

4 days to go.

AMEN.

*

9 Months.

It’s really funny how all your life through media and family and every other source you hear that pregnancy is a 9-month event. But only when you’re pregnant do you get corrected to understand that it’s anywhere from that to a 10 1/2 month event.  42 weeks is an all the way full term baby.  And 38 weeks is the minimum for being considered a non-premie.    But all through life – you hear “9 months”.  Here I am at that point.

This entire experience has been so humbling.  I’m surprised and honored to have made it this far when there were so many things telling me that it wouldn’t happen.   But against all the odds – here I stand.  I keep saying it … it’s my way of thanking God.  All my life I’ve believed that fear and faith can’t inhabit the same body and so I would ultimately cho0se Faith and wait on the Lord.  I can’t say that He’s ever let me down.  He’s NEVER given me more than I could handle.  And if that was the case, he surrounded me with people to prop me up till I could get it together.  I have no reason to doubt or question him now.  And yet the fear of what’s to come in a few weeks has begun to envelope my mind.  The “What-Ifs” have converged to make me doubt all that I thought I knew.  Potentially by next week… my whole life will have changed in a way that I can NEVER come back from.  NO matter what happens – I will have gestated and birthed a child of my own…  I will be a Mother.  Blessed Vessel to deliver a new life into the world.  This is the change life SHOULD take.  What I’d been waiting for  - for what seems to be a life time, considering in my 16 year old life plan, this was supposed to take place when I was 22… I only missed the mark by 14 years.  What else would I be doing with my life at this point if I wasn’t pregnant?  No… this is where I should be.

So why am I so scared?  I’ll be in charge of a whole other human life.  For her care, nurturing, cleaning, loving, teaching, handling, well being, sense of self, family and purpose.  What if I screw it all up?  I wish my mom was here to ask questions.  She did SO MUCH with so little.   In my humble opinion, she did an amazing job and I’d love to pick her brain about the minutiae now – how to stop a colicky baby from crying;  what are some old school Haitian remedies for diaper rash;  how to hold the baby so that she doesn’t spit up;   what secrets are there to avoid blowouts…. (even though, I remember her telling me the story of her first blow out experience with Dominic.  She thought the poor boy exploded in his crib over night…. and the story of how she cried on the train on her way back to work because she didn’t want to leave her newborn baby son.)

So maybe even the best of moms… don’t always know what to do.  But they always end up doing what they feel is best.

I worry that she won’t like me… or not latch on, or have some kind of developmental issue – all that could have been avoided if I did something different.

But this is the one time in my life where everything I did got me to 9 months.

I emptied my head of the “What Ifs” to Earl last night and he fired back with a few of his.  As confident and as steadfast as he’s been, he listed them without hesitation.  And I looked at him and thought… as long as we’re both in this together, I guess it can’t be so bad… or so frightening that we can’t lean on each other to figure it out.  Jenny assured us that between her and Mo and my MIL and countless sisters… there’s no way for me to feel that I don’t have a support system.  Now I just have to trust what I’ve always trusted.

Peace out, Fear.

If there was no room for you in this body because Faith was already there… there’s even LESS space now that I’ve made room for my baby too.  I’m sure you’ll peek your head up again soon, but you’re never ever welcome and I will NOT make a way for you.

*

The Art of Gifting

I no longer believe that someone has to intimately know you in order to be able to feel what is important to you.  They just have to pay attention every now and again.  My philosophy has always been that PRESENCE weighs more than PRESENTS to me anyday.  It will be the memory of you by my side making me laugh or helping me along that will warm me in the days that I find it hard to grasp on to reality more than the material things you may have thought to give.  And while the gifts help a LOT – I don’t want to discount that at all – memories always have meant more to me.  All my life, I have consciously made memories.  I’ll be in a moment and think to myself… “This is one of those memories I’ll always call on to warm me when life seems cold…”  I am actively archiving my life.  This blog is a part of that.

We recently had our “last grown up night out” (also known as the baby shower) and in true Me fashion – i didn’t want the typical.  The wicker chair, the measuring of bellies, icebreaker games or the hat with the ribbons tied on.  I wanted a true to form celebration.  An all out party.  My being in this position at all in this life is a complete miracle that transcends frills and games.  I needed everyone to come out and party and have a good time.  And that’s what we did.  Folks traveled from near and far and came to pay respects to this little one on her way.  And we (they) drank and ate and some danced and chatted and made a joyful noise in her name.  I couldn’t have asked for it to be better or any other way.  At the end of the night, we went home with what we lovingly refer to as “Mount BabyMore” which is currently erected in our living room – a dazzling assemblage of …. pretty much EVERYTHING we asked for off of our registry – a lifetime worth of pink & green & brown & yellow clothing for the princess and gobs of delicious Haitian food!  If we’d ever thought for a moment that we weren’t part of a loving community, our faith was again renewed that we have a true VILLAGE around us and surrounding us that will be there for her.

Today, I got a gift that rocked me to the core.  A chapter Soror of mine sent me a note on Facebook telling me she found the perfect book for me.  Which at the time I poo-pooed… thinking it was probably another copy of “Good Night Moon” or something along those lines.  But I couldn’t fault her generosity.  She thought that much of me at all so I was grateful.  We made arrangements for her to drop the book off to me at my job.  The mail guy delivered it and I mused on the phone while I unwrapped the gift.  I hung up the phone and looked at the cover:

Ladder To The Moon

Beautiful artwork.  This definitely wasn’t Good Night Moon….

I opened the jacket and read the first few words of the book:

One cool new evening,
Suhalia asked her mama,
“What was Grandma Annie like?”
“She was like the moon,” her mother replied.
“Full, soft, and curious.
Your grandma would wrap her arms
around the whole world if she could.”
Mama gave Suhalia a hug.
“You have Grandma Annie’s hands.”
she said.

Within seconds, the uncontrollable tears and sobs rolled through me.  I raced to shut the door to my office before my team saw me in such a condition.  How did they know?  How would anyone else know how to describe my little mommy so perfectly with so few words? I stared at the cover again and regarded a full figured, light skinned, long haired, openhearted woman that reminded me so of my mom… and I cried more as I thought of reading this book to my little one… trying hard to make her know her Grandmother from afar.  I flipped through the rest of the book thinking of all the parallels.  They likened her to the moon… which now when I stare at the moon, I think of the night she died when I did the same.  And something told me she was up there.  She used to always advise me against sleeping under the moon because I’d go crazy (lunacy) – but I told her she was my moon, lighting my path in the darkest night.  And she never warned me against the moon again.  And in the book, she visits her granddaughter and takes her up to the moon.   Just like my mom visited me in my dream and swept me around Haiti one night and showed me her homeland from her perspective.

This WAS the perfect book… and it amazed me that Soror Ann didn’t have to be my best friend in the world.   She just had to pay attention a little and follow her heart.  I want to buy many of these books so that I’ll always have one to read my babies so they’ll always have a connection to their Granny Ti’Den.

Thank you, Soror Ann… Thank you.

*

31 Weeks

aaaaannnd counting!

Stuff is starting to get really real  now.  As if it wasn’t before.  I constantly feel this little one jogging a marathon in my belly… she’s ALWAYS having the hiccups, which renders me feeling completely helpless because there’s nothing I can do to help her with that.  I’ve been told that it’s positive and encouraging that she’s having them because it means she’s practicing her breathing and getting her lungs mature enough to function outside the womb.  So I guess… hiccup away…  It gets a little surreal to feel after 20 minutes or a half hour.   I managed to piece together some semblance of a registry and have finally nailed down the details for the shower – enough to hand over to trusted friends an sisters.  We built the crib yesterday and are now fawning over it in lieu of fawning over her.  Things are moving along.

Ended up in Labor and Delivery on Saturday because there was this constant pressure happening in my lower abdomen all day that would spike and become extreme and then subside but back to the regular hum of pressure.  Since this is child #1 and I’ve never experienced a contraction before, we headed to the hospital after calling the OB and got put on a monitor to make sure the kid wasn’t making an unplanned escape.  She wasn’t.  No contractions.  Cervix is long and closed.  So… then… what was I experiencing?  No one knows.  But I was sent home in as much pain as I got there which was disheartening.  With the orders to stay hydrated and relaxed, that’s how I had to spend the rest of my weekend.  I wished I had gotten a little more direction or help – but I supposed in these cases, it’s a bit lofty to do either.  If it’s not contractions or the kid trying to slide out, then we just don’t need to deal with it might be the philosophy at hand right now.    My main concern is that SHE is alright in there.  Shortly after we got to the hospital, she started moving around a lot (she had been pretty sedentary when the pain was in full swing).  She took a special joy in kicking the baby heart monitor in particular that they placed on her.   She pinpointed exactly where it was and would give it a good whack every few seconds as if to say “get this offa me”.  As long as she was moving, i was fine.  But the search continues on my part to find out what the source of this pressure may be.  Growing pains?  Was she laying laterally?  I may never know.

Got some 3d pics of her this past week.  FINALLY.  The little gymnast hasn’t liked being on camera much so she’ll fancy herself throwing her feet up in front of her face.  To which the technician would say “can’t take a picture of her like this, you’ll just see two big black things in front of her face… it would be a waste.”  So the night before, Earl consulted the belly.  Begging her to just give us a look… a quick one… and he would make his famous homemade strawberry shake for her (which she loves).  Sure enough, when we got to the technician and saw that her feet were crossed Indian style away from her face, we took the opportunity to get a few 3d/4d pics of her little face.  Here’s a sneak peek at the love of my life:

Used to be that these pictures really creeped me out… But, I guess when you’re really looking to know that little one inside… they aren’t so creepy… you’re just looking for what you recognize.  My (mommy’s) nose.  His forehead.  A hybrid of mommy’s lips and his lips.   His cheeks.  Jury is out on the eyes till she opens them.  And her mom’s hammyness – hand poised right at the chin and cheek as if she was posing.  Little  superstar.  Earl can’t stop kissing the picture and my belly.  And I just stare.  Still in awe that any of this is happening.  That I can say aloud “I’m pregnant” and have it be true and enduring for the first time in my life.  It’s all still so indescribable.

I love this feeling!

*

Dear Drizzy,

I know… it’s been a long time since you heard from me. I know that you’ve missed me a little….

It was wrong of me to just drop off the face of the earth like that.  But when you think about it – our relationship started out in much the same way so it’s poetic in a way.   But there’s a very important reason you haven’t heard from me and I’ve gotten up enough strength to tell you to your face…  well… in a letter.

This summer was a whirlwind.  When we met, I was feeling pretty low on myself.  Even though I would dress up pretty and make my hair do beautiful things it could have never accomplished with a perm, I wasn’t getting any feedback.  Feels like the only person that was telling me anything was me in my own mirror.  That had me feeling pretty down every day – so behind my smile there was all this sadness.  I was in a stressful position at work at the time… things were just rough all around.

But then you came out of nowhere… and told me that I was the best… the best you ever had – and I believed you, because I wanted to and I really needed to.  So I started to listen to what you had to say more carefully.  You were always talking about rolling with Young Money, being up all night and making the high life sound like where it was at!  Somehow you managed to take Sade’s musical melancholy and blend it with the party-downstairs feeling of muted base and blurred lights that I’d always lived for and spoke words I needed to hear over it all.   I took a good look at you and you were boyishly cute.  Never thought I’d fall for your type, but your swagger and demeanor had me sold.  At the end of the day, that’s all anyone has forever.  So we started to go steady.  You kicked game to me every day in my car telling me how fancy you thought I was and when I was getting ready for us to go out on the town, you instructed me to put those fucking heels on and work it girl – let that mirror show you what you’re doing.  I won’t mention what you told me to do when we got home… Straight fireworks.  I hadn’t felt so light and pretty and wanted and sexy in a long time.  You were MY favorite, even though you kept bringing up that Minaj girl.  I can’t hate – she’s beautiful, talented and IS from Queens, afterall… how can you resist?  But I knew that I was your number one when we spent my birthday night signing and rapping to each other.  It was a concert was just for me and the thousands watching were just observing to see what real passion looked like.  I was on cloud nine then… The city was ours.

But I have to come clean to you finally…  You haven’t seen me because I’m with child.  And it’s not yours.  And as much as you made me feel young and pretty and wanted — the life I’m preparing for now is the one I always wanted and need to get my mind right for.  You have years ahead of you full of fun, frivolity, fame and carefree living. But I want you to know that you saved me from me and saved my swagger this summer when I thought I’d lost it all.  I’ll always be grateful for that because now I can teach that to my little baby girl when she gets older and she’ll be all of those things without ever having to ask for validation or permission.

I promise to always give the world me – the real me.

Thanks, Drake.

*

Third Trimester

Here it is… the final stretch as they say.  And when I thought I couldn’t be anymore humbled… I am bereft of the words that can explain all that’s going on.

When i lie in bed at night getting ready to sleep and rejuvenate… this little one rolls around and animates my tummy… and it literally tickles to the point where I laugh out loud – to my self… by myself.  And as I listen to the echo of my laughter fade away into the silence, I think about WHY I’m laughing and then I’m figuratively tickled…  I have a little baby inside of me…. I do…  one that looks like she’ll make it out of there … healthy enough for me to feel her movements and little limbs stretching and tickling my lower belly…  healthy enough for me to observe the quiet rhythmic jump of her having hiccups in my womb and every time I sit and think long enough about it… I’m reminded… There’s a little baby inside…. OF ME….  My baby.  Finally.  What a wondrous miracle.  What amazing blessings God is capable of.  And usually as I quietly entertain the fears that normally take over anyone in my position  – I pray that I’m ready… I don’t have all the elders to ask the questions to that raised me, how will i know what to do…  i hope that all that I’ve done and eaten in the last 7 months has allowed her to grow healthy and progressively and I’ve not done something to harm her… Am I too old for all of this… it’s all washed away by the amazing humility once she moves.   Or kicks.  or thumps.  And I know it’s not a lot… but right now?  It’s everything to me.  She is everything to me.  Everything else I’ve ever striven to accomplish or complete hasn’t had near the significance of these months.

Still so much preparation to complete.  Is anyone ever truly completely ready for a little baby to come into their lives?  I just trust and pray that I have all the internal tools ready so that they will manifest into anything she needs at all.

28 weeks… and counting.

*

Special Phone Call

Ritmo Speaker System

With all that I’m reading about what you could and can do to make your baby more intelligent, more intellectual and more responsive from the womb, the one that I’ve latched on to (of course) is playing music for the baby.  So I ordered one of these Ritmo Sound Systems that has four little baby sized speakers that go on your belly strategically to create “surround sound” and a little controller that makes it so that you can’t ever have it be too loud (because it’s totally possible to over stimulate the baby in there with too much interaction or noise that’s too loud.

So on the night of the SuperMoon last Saturday, I played a little Moonlight Sonata for her and she enjoyed that along with some Nutcracker Suite selections.  She was just flipping around in there and loving the music.    I picked the system up though, because I read somewhere that you could pipe your voice through it somehow.  I thought this would have been an easy task w/o too much technical know how but they didn’t make it easy for the non techie to figure this out.  Thankfully… I’m not a non tech .  When I did the first music session, I plugged the Ritmo into my computer and played selections from my music library as well as from YouTube if I wanted to play something I didn’t actually posses.  So there was a way to bring a voice through… primarily Earl’s.  I know she can hear him peripherally but I want her to REALLY know his voice when she gets out here, just like she’ll know mine intimately (not much of a choice in that one for her… but you know).

So finally it hit me… SKYPE!!!  I plugged the system into my lappy and pulled up Skype and dialed out to Earl’s cell phone.  That way, when he talked, it piped right into the speakers.  Man…  when he picked up that phone and said “Hello little one…”  She kicked me SO HARD like  “HEY!!!  That’s Daddy!!!”  She’d never kicked that hard yet and there was nothing I could do to stop her from flipping around for the next 10 minutes as Earl sat back and caught her up on EVERYTHING for the last 6 months like he was talking to a long lost friend.  It was really so beautiful that tears just streamed down the sides of my face freely.  Real tears of joy – not ones tied into any kind of misery or self pity.  I was just so overwhelmed by the happiness felt from within and the joy emanating from Earl’s voice.  This is it – my little nuclear family.  The one I dreamed about.   The one I prayed for.  And worked extremely hard for.  It’s coming to pass right before my eyes.  My only wish is that my Mommy could have seen…  But she’s supervising from the great beyond and helping to keep a good word up for my dreams and prayers.

Earl chatted to the baby to his heart’s content and ended the call by saying “It’s getting late now, I’m going to let you get some sleep – I love you so much… I’ll call you tomorrow!”  LOL  I couldn’t help but have a good belly laugh at that.  Because he will and will always want to talk with her and to her.  I can’t wait to meet her!

*

Little one…

Soft sweet rumblings from within
You’re touching me so deeply and don’t even know it yet
Moving about, developing as per God’s plan
Your presence fills me with wonder beyond my limited words
While I never gave up hope to be this person to you
I’m speechless to express how humbled I am to be this way
I thought for so long this love they talked about was mythical
But I see that you have already begun to cast your spell on me
I’m in love with you, little one.

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