The Beginning

Samuel,

I am tired today. I believe my belly has been growing more over the past three days, and I feel my body working so hard. It's a wonderful thing to see you growing right before my eyes. Everyday is one day closer to when I will finally meet you. My baby bunny.

It's my favorite kind of day: quiet, rainy, cold, open windows, blankets, books, writing, hot tea, coffee, snuggly pets, sleepy, moody, Erik Satie, reflective, etc.
There is something about these days that pulls me under a trance and I feel overcome by it. I read, and I sleep, and I crochet, and I dream of days like these with you, little one. Maybe on these quiet days, we will snuggle under the blankets, and I will read us The Velveteen Rabbit, or Little Bear. I will make us some tea or hot chocolate, and bake us some bread with soup for lunch. We'll make up stories and paint pictures into the evening, and I will kiss your sweet head and watch you sleep, and I will marvel at how much I love you and how much you belong to me.
For now, we will enjoy these days in a different way.

I've been working on your dark green, wool blanket today and I am nearly finished. I hope you will like it, but at least I know it will keep you warm in the dark winter months following your arrival. I am growing more excited at the thought of bringing you into the world. It can be a scary world at times, but I believe that your presence will make it just a little brighter.

There are a lot of things I am learning right now that is changing me into the person you will know. And I hope you believe someday that I am working hard to become someone both of us can be proud of. I know that I am not going to be perfect. But I will do everything in my power for the rest of our lives to do right by you, and to be a mother you deserve to have.

There is a poem I read recently and I related my love for you to it so well.

The Beginning by Rabindranath Talgore

"Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby asked
its mother.
She answered, half crying, half laughing, and clasping the
baby to her breast-
"You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with
clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made the unmade
you then.
You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship
I worshipped you.
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my
mother you have lived.
In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have
been nursed for ages.
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered
as a fragrance about it.
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow
in the sky before the sunrise.
Heaven's first darling, twain-born with the morning light, you
have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you
have stranded on my heart.
As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong
to all have become mine.
For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What
magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of
mine?"


I love you, I love you.

Always,
Mama

"Everything will turn out in the wash."

I've always been a dreamer, scheming up new possibilities and lives I could lead until I found my place. This is both a wonderful thing and an enormous curse in my life. Lately, it's been more of a curse.
There are many things early motherhood is teaching me. In recent days, I have experienced the first feelings of how conflicting a selfish attitude can be when you have a child.

I had a plan, which I mentioned a couple posts ago, that I would move back to Kansas City and rebuild a life for Samuel and I. I would do whatever it takes to get what I wanted and what we needed. Now, just three weeks before the moving date, I have nothing. No money, no car, no job there, no place to live. Still, I pushed through my "weakness" and stomped my feet and said, No, I will do whatever it takes to get what I want, to have my dream right this instant. I will work in fast food if I have to, I will walk the mile or two to and from work everyday, I will couch-hop. I will do anything. 

Cut to yesterday morning. Robb and I had a baby appointment to do an ultrasound scan on Samuel's anatomy, to measure and make sure everything is healthy and looking good. The technician put the gloop on my tummy and moved the wand around. There he was, our little peanut, all curled up in a tiny ball. His spine ran down his back and his head bent low over his stomach. "Let's get the heartbeat." said the technician, but there was no sound. She said nothing and for the very first time (trying not to cry as I write this now)...I felt it. That horrible, painful feeling every mother gets at some point. It washed over me and I swear for an instant, my heart stopped beating and my breath became silent.

"Oh, let me turn on the sound!" said the technician, and right away...Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh. I immediately felt my color come back, my heart filled again, and I watched my son on the screen all cuddled up and sleeping.

There was something about that moment that changed things. Something clicked in me and I realized for the first time that, yes I do love this child, and yes he is my child, but I realized that I have a dedication to him that I've not experienced before in my life. For the first time in my life, it fucking matters what I do to my body. It matters what I eat, how much I sleep, the exercise I get. It matters if I push myself too hard, and if I get stressed, it matters. Everything I do to myself, I do to him and that's something I never considered when planning to move in the middle of my pregnancy. Maybe when I was single and not a mom, it would have been totally okay to work 55+ hours a week, and couch-hop with friends, and walk a couple miles to work, and be living a stressful life. But I can't do that anymore, and that little ultrasound scare pretty much made that clear for me.
Robb had expressed his worries to me about this before, but I waved it away. In my mind, I didn't have a baby yet so I can struggle right now if I have to, if it means getting where I want to be. Finally, I decided that I need a different plan. And I need to stop being selfish and start thinking about what's best for Samuel. And what's best for Samuel is for his mother to be safe and secure, healthy and stress-free. And he needs both of his parents, whether they're in love or not, because he only has one mom and one dad, and he deserves to be with them both.
I'm not ecstatic about staying in Atlanta. I was, and am, very eager to begin rebuilding my life in Kansas City with our boy. But I can't do that if it means struggling and potentially hurting myself or him.
I will stay here, with Christmas being a goal to move, but even that isn't a sure thing. I'll work what I can this summer, save money, and focus on the pregnancy and staying healthy. When Samuel is here, Robb and I agreed it would be okay for me to stay at home with him until Christmas, which means a lot to me.

I've never been one to shy away from a lesson to learn or to be proven wrong. I am happy to learn and grow because it means I am one step closer to being who I want to be. I am grateful for this lesson and I look forward to all the others motherhood has to force upon me.
In the meantime, a big one is going to be about learning how to live in the moment instead of dreaming about the future or wishing time away. I want to enjoy the pregnancy, and eventually our son. And it's not a good habit to not live in the moment when you have a child. He won't be small forever!

Robb and I are good. We're both happy with the plan and that he can be there for Samuel in the beginning. I am still a little worried about his traveling, but I do know one or two people I could call here if I had an emergency, so that helps ease my mind quite a bit.

I think I just need to breathe. I need to enjoy right now, live in right now, not worry so much about the future, not be so serious and severe. As my grandma says, "Everything will turn out in the wash."

Samuel Augustine

Samuel Augustine,

This is the name your father and I have chosen for you. I hope you like it. I remember being very young and wishing my name was something other than 'Kaleigh'. Especially my middle name...'Marie'. The middle name every other girl born in the 1990s was given. And I never liked that my name was after family I didn't know or like. There was no great story behind my name, and I've never been very partial to my last name 'Powell' either. But I hope it's different for you. 'Samuel' was something thought of by Dad and I, but separately.

'Sam' is the name of a young, mature, and precocious Wes Anderson character in the film Moonrise Kingdom. A movie your father and I enjoy. And it's always been a name that I've admired. It's simple but strong. Samuel.

Dad mentioned it to me one day in between my various listings of names I liked but wasn't sure about ("Alexander? Rowen? Fox? Henry?"). "How about Samuel?" he asked. 'Samuel' wasn't on my list but some variation of 'Sam' was ("Samson?"). I was excited that we finally agreed on a name we both liked. We tested it over the next two weeks and quietly decided it was right.

Your middle name was easier. Your father listed various mythological characters, gods, ancient roman rulers and warriors. You know...the usual. I was all for an interesting middle name but...just not 'Achilles'.
"I like 'Augustine'. Like the saint." he said and I immediately adored it. We had happy memories in Saint Augustine last summer and I considered the trip to be the best in my life thus far. We let the name sit for a few days, but I knew it was what we were looking for.

Maybe this isn't some great story, but I hope you know that choosing your name was done so out of love. And I do hope you like it. I don't know what you're going to be like or what sorts of things you'll do in life, but I hope that you make your name your own. And be thankful we didn't name you "Jaxon" or something rhyming with "Aiden". Because I guarantee you'll know a lot of those growing up.

I love you, Samuel Augustine. My peanut.

All my love,
Mama

It's a...

...boy!! Just like I said, just as I dreamed. We went to our baby appointment yesterday and seeing him for the first time, this little person in my belly, was so sweet. He squirmed and kicked, shook his head, moved his lips, and touched his face and ears with his tiny hands. I looked over at Robb who was moved, but sat quietly. He didn't say a word, but I could see his heart through his eyes. The sonographer printed some photos for us and placed them in an envelope. I held them closely and the appointment was over. 

We walked to the car silently and I looked over the photos in the car. "He has your nose. Did you see? See how his nose is flat at the top like yours?" Robb nodded and began driving. I felt as though I wanted to laugh and hop up and down with joy, but I kept quiet for his sake. 

Robb was happy. Deeply and genuinely happy about the baby, the photos, finding out he will have a son. But I didn't want to take away his sadness as well. 

On Saturday night and Sunday morning, we talked a lot about the near future. We both knew that I haven't been happy here and that he will be traveling for work nearly every week starting in a couple months. Being pregnant and entirely alone, in a city that I don't enjoy living in, with all my support, my friends and family back in Kansas City...it's just a lot. And to honest, I love Robb so much. We love each other a lot. He's my best friend, and I can't imagine my life without him in it. But we're not right for each other in the long term. 

We've had a loving, romantic relationship with life struggles of our own that we faced together. He's given and helped me more than I could ask for from someone. Robb will always be very close to me, we'll always be close friends, and I'll always hold him to such a high regard. I think he's a beautiful and wonderful person. But I'm not the one for him and he's not the one for me. And most importantly, I need to begin rebuilding myself, my life, and my independence. Especially before the baby comes. 

So we've both decided it would be best for us to part ways as a couple and for me to move back to Kansas City. I need to begin rebuilding my life and be close to family and friends. We're both very sad about this decision and it was so difficult to make. I love Robb and it will be so devastating to not see him everyday. And most of all, we're both sad that he won't be there every moment to help me raise our little one. But he will be around as much as he can. We're planning holidays together, monthly visits in KC and to Atlanta, and vacations. He'll be there to help bring our son into the world, and he'll stay for a few weeks after, before hopefully seeing us again a month later.

So the sonogram was sad. "I'm going to miss so much in his life." he told me.
"Maybe," I said "but we'll see you often, and I will share so many pictures and videos. We'll video chat everyday so you can see him. And you won't go longer than a month without being with him." I tried to be comforting, but I'm not naive either. It's going to be a really difficult thing for him to have to leave without his boy every time. And I know he can't quit his job and just move back and be near us. So we have to make it work with what we have. 

As for myself, I am very distraught about leaving Robb. It will definitely be hard for a while. But I want to be home with our child as well. I want our son to live in a city I love and be surrounded by all the people who love him. And I feel the same about myself, which is why I feel so much relief in a way. I'll be happier to grow at home.

I know that it won't be easy, and I'm sure there will be bad days. But I intend on working hard to make most days good. I want so much to be someone I can be proud of. And most importantly, someone my boy can be proud of and look up to. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get there. 

Oakland Cemetery & Wanderings

Robb and I spent our Sunday exploring more of Atlanta. We took the train and walked to the Oakland Cemetery, burned our skin in the warm sun, and contemplated the past and our own futures. We wandered around Cabbagetown and through the Krog Street Tunnel, on to Krog Street Market, before setting back home. It was a tiring day, but still happy.

A lot has been decided about the coming months. Things I cannot share at the moment, but I will in due time. For the first time in a while, I feel a great sense of relief, despite the inevitable struggles that I face in my near future. But we will discuss this another day.

Today was a good memory and something I will hold close to me. But what is more, tomorrow is an even bigger day. 

Tomorrow is the day we go to see our baby. We'll find out the gender (hopefully!) and receive more pictures to keep near. I am excited to find out more about our child, and I'm excited that Robb gets to be there. He never got to see the first one ultrasound, so this one will be even more special. 

I will, of course, update tomorrow or Tuesday with the findings! But for now, here are some photos from today's wanderings:

"Gone With the Wind" author Margaret Mitchell is buried here.

Carroll Street Cafe in Cabbagetown

Krog Street Tunnel

Bullet Updates

Every so often, I'll use these bullets to talk about things that are going on in my life. I think they're useful when I have updates or thoughts that seem scattered in my head.

- I went to another appointment last week and everything went well. I heard baby's heartbeat, which was strong and healthy, and I had a full exam that turned out perfect. The most exciting part of my appointment was setting up our next one. It's the gender scan where we find out more about our baby! And it is literally only four days away!! I am beyond excited. So much so that I've not been thinking about it at all the past week and a half because it makes me feel sick with excitement. 

- I'll be honest. I've been wanting a girl since day one. It's not that I think girls are better or anything. I think I just relate to girlhood so much because it was a time in my life that I have happy thoughts and memories about. I wasn't a very girly child, but I enjoyed American Girl magazines and their dolls, teen magazines, sleepovers with my best friend, and bad pop songs. But I also loved climbing trees, playing Legos with my little brother, riding my bike, and going to the movies with my friends.

Most importantly, I'd love to have a mother-daughter relationship with my girl. I want to have coffee dates and gossip about kids at school, and I want to teach her how to be someone she can be proud of. I say all this now, realizing that having a little boy wouldn't be much different. And this is why I've come to accept that I don't mind if I have a boy. 

Chances are, my boy would be much like his parents. He'd be into arts and crafts, reading, writing, music, animals, and science. I don't see him being too much of a boy's boy. Although I think he'd like the Royals because Mom and Dad are from Kansas City. But I predict he would be an inquisitive, sensitive, silly type. He'd be a boy who loves his parents, who likes coffee dates and craft sessions with Mom, and trips to the record store and lunch with Dad. 

And the truth is, I'm in love with both of these children and I'd be absolutely over the moon with whoever we end up with. Four more days and we'll find out!

- I've been feeling good these days for the most part. I don't feel sick but maybe a few times a week now, and I still have days of being exhausted, but I am pretty energetic for the most part.

- I decided to look for a second job so that I can save money and be able to buy some extra things every so often. I applied as a barista to a few places so hopefully I get a call soon. I'm sure working twelve hour days two or three days a week won't be fun, but I have to do something.

- I have plans to begin adding photos to this blog very soon, which will become a regular thing. I haven't done it yet because we haven't set up the computer I need to upload my photos to yet. But my hope is to get it done before the weekend and then use it immediately. We'll see what happens!

To My Pepper Baby

I've always been fascinated by the veins on the back of my hands and up my arms. It reminds me of something alive and old in me that never quite came through when I was younger. These are the hands that will hold you. These are the hands you will come to know. I am emotional thinking about these things. I want to love you. I think I am beginning to love you.

If only you weren't just a thought. I've seen you. A small oval, unrecognizable, but you were there on the screen. I've heard your heart beating, something I come back to when I feel alone. But you're still an abstraction that I can't quite pull into reality. Even so, I am beginning to love you.

Daddy called me to him as he worked at the kitchen table. He pulled me to him, hugged my waist, and kissed my belly. "Have you felt any kicks yet? I was reading about it earlier." I told him I hadn't but it won't be long. I pray it won't be long. 

I held this thought close to me through the evening. I took my usual comfort shower, something I do in the times I want hit the refresh button on my mind or reflect on things. I sang David Bowie quietly to myself. Is there life on Marssss?? I wonder if you heard me.

I washed my face and applied a new eye cream sample given to me by my aunt last weekend. Maybe it will make me look more lively and fresh. I thought. I picked up my Burt's Bees Belly Butter and considered a change in my regimen. I'll keep it next to my bed now. I had read that laying down quietly is the best way to feel your movements, so I did and applied the butter to my stomach, looking down at my breathing and wondering if you were asleep. Or maybe you were moving and I just couldn't tell. I noticed how my belly has grown and imagined its growth over the next few months. From my perspective, it seems bigger than it is. I wish you were bigger. But for now, my pregnancy app says you're the size of a jalapeno. My baby pepper. I am beginning to love you.

Tonight, I am floating. Today was just a long thought, filled with plans and goals and reminders that there is so much to do. I cleaned the kitchen for the third time, and attempted to wash the car oil out of my bright pink tennis shoes (There was an unfortunate leak from an oil bottle in the car when we moved here. I had to throw some things away). I made myself a rare cup of coffee, and it has made me miss the nights that I used to drink a big mug late in the night, scratching away at the latest project that had stolen my interest.

I daydream of those nights to come, assuming they will still exist. I've received many a warning that babies do not sleep through the night, and mothers will find themselves awake at all hours trying to soothe their little ones into sleep. Maybe it won't be so bad though. I dream of staying up, drinking my coffee and working away on a project, you wide awake and cozy in your swing or bassinet, happy and alert. Like a little muse, comforting and supportive in your smiles and yawns and wandering eyes. I am beginning to love you.

My next doctor's appointment is just five days away, and I will be happy to hear your heart again. And then maybe in a few weeks, we will see your sweet face and know our little one better. Even though I am still convinced you're most likely a little boy. But for now, you're our baby pepper. And to tell you the truth, I think I already love you.

Wednesday Thoughts

I spent the last week in Kansas City. I needed a break to wash away all of the angst and emotional turmoil these past two months have brought me. It was a somewhat quiet trip with no real excitement, but I am glad for that. I had time with family and was able to catch my breath again. Reminders and revelations. And open wounds that were finally sewn up with care and grace and truth and genuine love from ones I thought had departed from me forever. Criticisms and support systems became defined, and finally the understanding and acceptance that this whole motherhood thing is going to be mine and only mine.

It took me until the day before I came home for me to actually want to come home. I love KC, but I want to like Atlanta too. I want to go exploring now that I have the energy. Not only that, but I want to feel like I am bringing my child into a place that I can show off and be happy with. Being away from my real home in the Midwest is definitely hard, but it has its perks. Out here, I don't have anyone to tell me what to think or that the way I am doing things is "not what they would do". I don't have anyone constantly reminding me how hard being a parent will be or that "everything is going to change", like that's such a bad thing. I know more than anyone else that these are facts. I don't expect that being a parent will be easy, and I don't think everything will stay the same, or that there won't be some days or nights where I'll want to just give up or tear my hair out. But the thing is, I welcome all of that with open arms, heart, and mind. I've wanted to be a mother for so long. I don't worry about whether or not I'll be a good mom because it's just something I am absolutely sure I'll be great at. It's always been a dream.
And I know better than anyone else that this was not the ideal time to become a mom for me. But it's happening. And I don't want to substitute those feelings of excitement and happiness for regret or sadness or fear. There is absolutely no room in my life for negativity right now.

I am learning to love this baby more and more everyday. I think I know that it's a little boy. I often find myself referring to the baby as "him", and I have had two dreams now that I had a son.
I find that any kind of pessimism I felt at the start of this, is now beginning to subside. I am gradually more confident everyday that we're going to be more than okay.

I was looking through my old Instagram posts this morning, and I immediately felt this wave of clarity come over me. "I was so lost. I was just wandering." I thought of all the memories and all the moments where I tried to muster enough motivation to pursue something real, and it all fell through. I didn't know who I was or where I was going or what to do. I was just wandering through my life with no real purpose or reason to be something more.
And now for the first time in my life, I have a huge reason. And I won't claim that I know who I am now or where I am going, but I actually have a direction that makes sense now. I have a motivation to pursue my ambitions and the things I wanted to accomplish. And I cannot express what a relief that is for me.

Being a mom is such a huge thing for me. I am trying learn how to make it my own and not worry so much about what a mom looks like or does or believes. I just want to be the best person I can be for myself and for my little one.

Lessons to Be Learned

I am nearing the end of my first trimester and I could not be more relieved. It wasn't awful, but it's definitely no fun being exhausted and on the verge of upchucking all day, everyday.

As you can imagine, a lot has been on my mind lately, but I want to be honest. This situation is not ideal for me at all. I always imagined that when I got pregnant with my first child, I would be married to the love of my life, we would have both planned for it and been absolutely ecstatic about becoming parents. But...that's just not how it has been for me.

I don't have my shit together at all. I don't have any money. I don't have a grown-up job, nor am I qualified for one right now. I have finished half of my college credits. I am not married, and I don't plan on marrying anyone for a while. I am away from my home (Kansas City) and my family and friends. I am living in this city that I am trying so hard to like but it's difficult. I often think that the only thing I've got going for me is how much of a dream becoming a mother has been for me, and that I know how great of a mother I will be.

But other than that, this is just...not how I wanted it to happen. It's not what I imagined. And if I were to go back in time and tell my eighteen year old self what would become of me in a matter of five years, I would have been devastated and felt like a failure. 

But shit, that thought process is depressing. Things rarely go the way we want them to in life, and worst of all, human beings are faulty creatures. No one sets out to make mistakes or make the wrong decisions. We go into a problem and try to assess and decide what is the right thing for us at the time. And half of the time, we find out later that...wah wah wahhhh, nope, that was the wrong decision. So what can you do? You've got to understand how and why you made that decision. And then you've got to own that shit, come to terms with it and really accept it, and then move on with your new knowledge. 

Guys, I've had many a pity party. Possibly many more than actual regular parties. And when you're an overly-ambitious person like me, you know the oh-so-familiar feeling of discouragement that inevitably paralyzes you when you finally let yourself down. Yes, I had big, BIG dreams. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that I had too many big dreams, and they weighed me down until I couldn't move anymore. I watched as my peers passed me by, achieving and accomplishing all that they set out to do, and I applauded and supported them. But I was also secretly jealous and unsure about myself. Why couldn't I have done that? Why am I here and not there? 

The truth is, you're here because you're not them. You have been faced with your own struggles and adversities, your own opportunities and privileges. Just as they have. But you've got to work with what you've been given and learn those lessons you were put on this earth to learn. So what is the point in comparing? You can't. 

I have punished myself for the mistakes I've made, and at times I thought maybe I was being punished by God or fate or something else. But I have come to believe that these thoughts do nothing but harm, and I am doing myself a disservice by not rising to my challenges and accepting the lessons I need to learn.

And there are lessons I am learning. They're not easy, but I feel that they are ones I, and everyone else, must learn in order to get to where we need to be. 

1.  Forgiveness - Forgiveness of others and myself. I cannot change what has happened in my life. I cannot change who has wronged me, or the ways in which I have wronged myself. We must be able to accept the past in order to properly exist in the present.
2.  Responsibility - For the predicaments and situations I find or put myself in, and for my future. In order to move forward, we must take full, unapologetic responsibility of ourselves and where we are in our lives. We have to know and accept that we will never get where we want to go unless we move ourselves. No one can do it for me. No one is going to save me or wave a wand and make it all better. We must take responsibility of ourselves and move from there.
3. Self-love and Ownership - I need to fully love and accept myself in order to be who I want to be. Self-love is not just about body positivity or being able to see a movie alone. It's the way we hold ourselves in all places in our lives, with the people we love, and with the people who don't love us. It's the ability to put yourself first in all situations and understanding that when you give to others what you do not give yourself, you are making thieves of them. You are allowing them to rob you of what you deserve first and foremost. This means loving others when you do not love yourself and everything that encompasses. You must be your own best friend. What would those who love you not tolerate? You need to have that strength to stand up for yourself as a loved one would, and value your time and presence, especially when others seem not to. 

All of these lessons are huge and incredibly important. I believe they are absolutely required in order for anyone, myself included, to be a well-rounded, fulfilled individual. And they aren't easy or quick either. They take time, possibly years. But what else am I going to do? I guess I could throw another pity party. But those are no fun, especially when you're the only one there. 

I threw up...

I threw up for the first time last night. Well...not ever but during the pregnancy. It was awful. My sister Jayme had horrible morning sickness when she was pregnant with her daughter Ryleigh. I remember the first time she threw up was at mine and my then-boyfriend's apartment and he looked at me and was like, "Is this normal...?" I assured him through her gagging and puking noises coming from the bathroom that yes, it was normal and it will be okay. Well, other than the fact that Jayme ended up losing a significant amount of weight from never keeping anything down, and she ended up having to be put on nausea medication.

I told Jayme today that I threw up last night, and I could just see her grin through the phone. "Yep, this is about the time it started for me." I nervously laughed and considered what a horror to be that sick over the next few months. Throwing up once is terrible enough, but everyday...multiple times a day...violently, I might add. No. Not me. I can't. I already cry when I throw up because I'm convinced I'm dying.

Guys, real talk right now...I can be a huge wiener when it comes to pain and bad physical experiences. I'm not the worst, but I'm really not even tolerable. I don't know what it is. I think it's because I've just always been really healthy. I mean, I never even had my blood drawn before until my first pregnancy exam. My sister has always been very tough. She had a lot of medical issues when she was young, so being poked and prodded with needles and such became just a fact of life that she had to accept. I think that translated over into a pretty good tolerance for pain. But me...I just never got sick or hurt. I broke my arm when I was eleven and fractured the other at twelve. That's about the extent. So when something happens, like when I throw up or have a nosebleed (had my first one ever this year), I'm not a baby, but I tend to not believe that the pain and discomfort is normal. Like, "Is this really how it is for everyone?! It can't be, this is just too terrible!"
I know will have plenty of opportunities to be a wiener about things later on. Having a baby is not exactly a walk in the park. But right now, the idea of throwing up everyday or even often...is just as bad.

Howdy and Welcome!

The bottom oval blob is our baby! Such a good-lookin' critter already!

On February 6, 2016, I found out that I was pregnant with my first child. I'm not going to lie, I was terrified. I worried about my future, about my partner Robb, our finances, our studio apartment, our families, my body, etc. I was crying...a lot. I considered the night about two weeks prior when I drank far more than I should have, and so I cried about that. I cried about my aching boobs and the fact that I was peeing more often than I was comfortable with, and later I cried about not having anything remotely appetizing to eat in the fridge (ie. anything that wasn't fruit was considered inedible).
There were other, much more serious concerns and conversations, all of which panned out naturally throughout one depressing Sunday. The verdict was reached that we would be okay, so the next day we told our families, and I scheduled an appointment for my first pregnancy exam.

It's been two and a half weeks since February 6th and a lot has changed. I don't worry about my future or our studio apartment anymore. Of course, I do worry about Robb and I try to make sure he is happy and okay. I do worry about my body and whether or not I ate too many cheese puffs today, to which I will hesitantly proclaim: No. No, I did not. I religiously rub Burt's Bees Belly Butter on my stomach and boobs everyday in fear that I'll develop massively horrendous stretch marks. 'Cause uh-uh, girl...that ain't happenin'.
Other changes, I don't worry about our families, since they're collectively overjoyed in every way about the baby.
I don't cry anymore. (At least not about anything other than those darn military parent homecoming Youtube videos...) Although I did almost shed a few tears of happiness at On the Border the other night over a remarkably beautiful bowl of yellow queso cheese dip. (I have no regrets.)

I found out at my appointment last week that I am eight weeks pregnant, and that my baby is currently the size of a wild strawberry. And also, I heard the heartbeat and recorded it on my phone, and between you and me...sometimes when I feel lonely, I listen to it a few times and I feel better.

All in all, everything is happy. There are days of ambivalence, days of joy and excitement, and there are days that I actually forget this is happening.
Most importantly, I wanted to write this blog in order to record my experience of the ultimate transition to womanhood: becoming a mother. So stick around because shit's 'bout to get real.