Wide Awake

I haven’t slept all week. I actually probably haven’t slept properly in 9 months.

I’m ready.

I am not ready.

Sometimes I wish I were more like a kitty. They seem to have no problems sleeping. It seems what they do best. About 10 minutes ago my deaf kitty walked on the dresser, turned on the alarm clock radio which blared NPR next to my head and my other kitty who also is directly next to the radio didn’t flinch or budge even with the addition of my grumbling and swearing. I rolled myself out and off my husband’s side of the bed, continued to grumble swears under my breath, turned on a light as not to trip over clothes, slippers, books and other things that don’t belong on the bedroom floor, waddled over to the alarm clock and slammed my fingers down on several buttons. 2 years later and I’m still unsure how the thing actually functions. I remove the deaf kitty from the nightstand, pat her bottom, waddle back to husband’s side of the bed, rearrange pillows, and attempt to gracefully enter sheets and covers – sleeping kitty turns head further into himself, moves paw over face and blissfully continues sleeping.

Self centered? Simple? Carefree?

I tend to think part of cats are Zen Meditation Masters who are capable of shutting out the noises and distractions of the world, including their own internal distractions to completely absorb themselves in rest, sleep, contemplation and peaceful silence.

I suppose this is easier done when your brain is less than the size of a walnut. How complex and distracting of thought can you really get into with a walnut brain?

Aside from my physical discomfort and at times even physical pain – my mind is a mess right now. I am so ready for this baby to get out here and be in my arms – in my sight – on my breast. I’m terrified of “inducing” him to come out on Wednesday starting at 7 a.m.

C’mon baby – let’s get going and do this on your terms. You’re ready! I’m ready! Start your progression down and out into the world today or tomorrow before doctor has her way with you. You can do it! It will be much better if you’re in charge of your grand entrance. Trust mommy.

And mommy will happily sleep again – at least for a few hours after you safely get out here – daddy will stay awake with you. And you guys can get to know each other.

Livestock for Christmas

Doug calls me from work this morning, early, and leaves a message saying, “Just wondering if you’re awake.”

Of course I’m awake. I’m 38.5 weeks pregnant and haven’t slept in a month. Does that mean I want to get out of bed for the phone at 9:00 a.m. on Saturday? I wish I were sleeping, blissfully unaware of anything other than my fanciful dreams.

Sleeping I am not.

I could tell by his voice that he needed and wanted called back right away. I untangled myself from covers and pillows, rolled my sore body out of bed, waddled to the living room, found a phone and plopped down on the chase next to a cat.

He answers and I ask, How things are going and what’s up? Right away he says, “Can we take a little pumpkin and put it on FB’s gravestone later today?”

Of course we can. Absolutely.

I ask him, Did something trigger this or what happened or … ??? and he says, “I was just thinking about carving pumpkins today and wishing she were her to see them. I’m just sad.”

Makes sense.

He’s different from me, though, and doesn’t always share emotional things freely  – a man thing -  still though, I remain  curious as to what his sad looks like – so this little opportunity in is accepted no matter what else is going on. I know my grief and how it is triggered or how it surprises me and how it feels for me, and often I tell him about it. The depth, colors and experience of this grief for him – sometimes – still – remains a mystery to me. And the only way, really, to get to know his grief is to quietly wait for him to share. It can at times be difficult for me, especially when I’m feeling very lonely in my grief and needing not to be the only one who still thinks about and feels the loss of her, but I’m getting better at allowing rather than pulling – something marriage teaches me every day.

So I asked further, Is it because we’re going to have this baby any day now and he replies, “I want them both. I’m just being greedy.”

Me too.

I tell him, We’re not often greedy so I think in this case we’re allowed to be a little greedy in wanting to have both of our children alive and well – here with us – together.

And he agrees.

I decided yesterday that each year for Christmas I’m going to buy FB a gift, however, that my gift to her would actually be a gift to someone else in the world. This year I’m starting with Heifer International. I’m thinking about sending a family a flock of chicks (eggs for protein) in FB’s name.

Heifer International Gift Catalog.

N1H1 Vaccine for Preggos

It is really important for Preggos to get the N1H1 vaccine. And caretakers of babies younger than 6 months. I’ve only ever gotten one seasonal flu shot in my life and I my nurse aunt held me down and made me (I was a student teacher at the time and had already had some other bizarre respiratory infections from the petri dish’s we call schools), but this year when my MFM said, “You’re getting the N1H1 vaccine” I didn’t even question her. I’m usually more worried about side effects of the vaccine but this Swine Flu is such a bizarre strain of flu – the way it affects certain risk groups and so quickly. I read about a couple preggos who were intubated after feeling sick for half a day – forget it!

The morning of my scheduled injection my doc called and said, “Brush your hair for your appointment today. We need a 3rd trimester pregnant lady to be in a photo for the newspaper.”

Well… here I am - Preggo Poster Child for the N1H1 Vaccine in C-Town.

I’ve come a long way in following directions and fear of needles. I’m actually kind of smiling in the picture aren’t I!? 10 years ago when I first started teaching it took Maggie over an hour to talk me into the flu shot, distraction from a friend, demonstrations on an orange and perhaps even a cold bevvy. Now I’m volunteering to have my picture taken while receiving an injection?

Weird thing - I have to look when they insert the needle or it hurts more. I’ve stared down the sharp point of many a needle in the past few years. Almost a metaphor isn’t it – in order to face a fear or challenge I must examine it closely, look it in the face, plunge right in. For I’ve learned that avoidance only makes the fear grow bigger – stronger – even more powerful.

LBBs

Little Brown Birds. And Chickadees, Titmice, Cardinals, Goldfinches, Bluejays, woodpeckers, red-winged blackbirds, robins and other unidentified seasonal winged friends.

As I sat watching the little birds out my back window this morning, serenely viewing their activity I felt really grateful for my home, my rocking chair, unmanicured backyard, bird feeders, having enough money to buy birdseed and the LBBs. I thought, “They’re so beautiful and pleasant” as they pick seeds out of the tiny hemlock pinecones.

THUD!

Another poor LBB falls victim to my windows. Well, this one flew away, hopefully only stunned and missing a few feathers.

Sometimes I think, “I’m tearing that mess out of the yard!” Mess meaning the hodgepodge of seed producing perennials that have been allowed to overgrow their beds and spread rampantly. At times I think, “I’m cutting everything back and putting down only mulch and simple bushes.” I know this would please my husband.

But then there are mornings such as this one – days where I’ll lose hours just watching the LBBs gather remnants of summer’s flowers, pinecones, seeds, and other unkempt plant matter out of the yard – harvesting – feasting – storing – preparing for the long, cold, hungry winter months ahead.

One woman’s backyard mess = hundreds of birds’ backyard delight!

Pumpkin Carving

More Halloween: I am sooooo eager to carve my pumpkins. How many days ’till Halloween? Do you think my Jacks will last 2 weeks?

I have lights, and patterns, candles and ideas swimming all around my head. I’m a bit obsessed. Later this afternoon I will buy (or perhaps make hubby buy) a ridiculously expensive, yet awesomely cool set of pumpkin carving tools from Martha Stewart (on sale at Macy’s) and then try to hold myself back from digging into my beautiful orange gourds. I might go to the market and pick up a few more pumpkins – 2 just doesn’t seem like enough does it!? Although, the orange beauties might be more expensive here than the ones we bought in Marblehead – Darn Suburban Inflation - it will be worth it to light up the walkway with spooky faces and creepy creatures. I just might carve up one pumpkin this week and try a preservation technique from the article below:

How to Preserve a Carved Pumpkin
Essentially, there are three ways you can preserve your pumpkin.
http://www.associatedcontent.comarticle/64208/how_to_preserve_a_carved_pumpkin.html

Halloween

I love Halloween! I hope Baby Bunsey loves Halloween as much as I do. Well, he must, after all he decided to be conceived so he would be born right around Halloween. What a cool baby!

So, this morning I’m paging through my ridiculously overpriced Martha Stewart Halloween magazine getting excited about themed parties for Baby Bunsey. Sometimes Martha is a little complicated with her recipes and decorations, but I’ll give it my best and maybe get some knock-off recipes from simpler magazines! The decorations possibilities are endless, as are the games, snacks, and treats we’ll have each year for him. I’m imagining a big annual autumn party that will be SO MUCH FUN! I LOVE parties and games and autumn is such a fabulous time for outside activities: bobbing for apples, eat the doughnut off the string, haunted maze, costume show,  spooky pinatas, pumpkin carving, three-legged races, not to mention all the delicious harvest foods and smells, apple cider, baked treats and crunchy leaves!  What’s a good substitute for water balloon toss? Gourd toss? Not quite the same challenge. We’ll have to think about that one.

I hope to convince Aunt Laurel to make some of her famously indestructable pinatas for Baby Bunsey’s parties. I swear, we’d be at those things for what felt like hours – stick in hand, blindfolded, treats and treasures just out of reach – banging and batting away at those monsters. I remember watching from a distance as kids swung furiously in the air, missing – nearly hitting friends desperate for candy. There was even was one pinata that didn’t break open until we’d beat if off the string, held it down under foot on the ground – bashed and stabbed at it until finally, the thinck cardboard gave way to our sugary reward.

Those were GREAT parties!

What’s your favorite part about autumn?

Last Day?

Will today be my last day of work?

Tomorrow she might say, “Let’s have a baby!”

Let’s!? 

There’s no “Let’s” in any of this. Let’s = Let Us. There’s no Us in this situation. Not for my doctor, not my mother, not even my husband.

Let’s.

What? Do I seem like an idiot?

I think for dinner tonight I’ll have an awesome Philly steak sammy from 56 West. Mmmmmmm…. Could be my last real meal for a few days.

We’re meeting the doula this afternoon. I can’t wait until she says, “Tell me your due date again.” And I’ll say, “Could be tomorrow.”

Yup. I’m pretty much consumed with anxiety and nervousness. Yes, I’d love to just wait around until labor starts on its own – go as far as I can – be supernatural. However, considering the sleeplessness, PTSD/stillbirth dreams, constant obsessing about pressure, and other pregnancy-after-loss and Preeclampsia issues – it is probably just better for me to let the doctor induce and get things moving along. We’re 37 weeks today. I probably should be more grateful to have a full-term baby, shouldn’t I?

Old Navy Girls

As I stood in line today at Old Navy, completely uncomfortably squeezed into my jeans, feet bulging at the end of sneakers that used to be my friends, picking up a large-sized maternity sweater, there were these charming little girls in line next to me – playing, chatting, hanging on their mom’s cart, smiling at each other, simply being little girls with tangled hair, freckles, striped stockings and corduroy skirts.

I looked at them and smiled. They were darling.

Then as the mom behind me started talking to her son about the little girls – I gleaned they all must go to the same school – I began to wonder, “Would I have kept her hair long? Would she have been so cheerful? So charming? What would she look like now? How big would she be? What would WE be doing today?”

She could have been just over a year now.

And it isn’t every time that I see little girls that I have thoughts such as these.

Often enough though.

Perhaps these thoughts won’t be as prevalent once my Busy Little Boy arrives, captures my attention and absorbs all my love.

Or, perhaps they will.

They may even morph into different thoughts. Other yearnings. New wonderings.

I just never know what will be.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

What else can I do?

I’ve cleaned the house. I’ve organized. I’ve thrown things out. I’ve tidied. I’ve rearranged.

I’ve washed, folded and put away clothes, blankies, bibs, towels, washcloths, hats, and socks. I’ve sorted toys, put away diapers, diaper cream, towels, shampoo, and baby lotion.

I packed my bag. I packed for my husband. I packed a coming home outfit for him.

What else is there for me to do except wait?

Waiting.

Autumn, A Reminder

It is time for a reminder – for me. So today I chose to read a simply profound work by my favorite author, Parker J. Palmer. Today I read an essay found in his book, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation. The passage I selected to quote below comes from his essay on Autumn, page 100:

“Autumn constantly reminds me that my daily dyings are necessary precursors to new life. If I try to ‘make’ a life that defies the diminishments of autumn, the life I end up with will be artificial, at best, and utterly colorless as well. But when I yield to the endless interplays of living and dying, dying and living, the life I am given will be real and colorful, fruitful and whole.”

I spent some time today cleaning, organizing and preparing – all autum tasks in the creative cycle. I read a little and listened to music. I also spent time just gazing out the back window, watching the birds, listening to the chatter of goldfinches who now wear their winter feathers of brown and pale gold. Noticing the browns, yellows and red hues of the foliage in my garden. And I considered my daily dyings, actual dying, fears, and ruminations. And I was just quiet. Rocking gently in my new glider. Holding my tummy. Watching it move about and stir. Breathing and being alive.