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."