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Archive for April, 2010

squirrel!

here’s 15 seconds of cute for your friday. you’re welcome.

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pregnancy gripe:

oh, how i wish that every single emotion i experience, no matter the intensity, was not manifested in tears. especially in business sorts of meetings or doctors offices. over it. so very over it.

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continuity.

one bananie. one big jude. two pregnancies.

the hottness = jude + sparky + bananie

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good morning, son.

i promise it has not taken a week to find words about the reality of having a son. that took about a day, honestly. the subsequent days have slipped by with little time to reflect in words. but here i am now, five days on.

ultrasound day was a blur. that morning was a regular prenatal appt with m. my friend james, an email from whom i once wrote about here, has been staying with us for the past six weeks, as he finds some firm ground in austin. he accompanied me to my appointment, and recorded the galloping horses heartbeat of my baby. i asked m if she had any final guesses as to zig’s sex, and she said, “based on heart tones today, a girl, but my original hit was boy, so i’m sticking with boy. team boy.”

…meanwhile, on the ziggy poll, the boy voters had nudged ahead.

right about this time, i was pretty convinced i was having a girl. and i said it out loud to myself. my months of guesses culminated into the following philosophy: i may have had boy hunches, i may have thought of a full boy name, but no matter my thoughts, i am bound to have a girl. it is what i do. it is what my family does. we are girls who birth girls (with the occasional boy). so, hunch away, self; you’re still having a girl.

h had similar thoughts. hers had gone further, though. the boxes of baby jude clothes carefully packed away in the attic filled her head with baby girl dreams. sisters. the girls. that was going to be our future. our family was going to look like a house full of girls.

fast forward to the ultrasound. i’m lying on the table, elastic-waisted jeans pulled and rolled down low on my hips. jude begins to wail in terror at her mommy being in such a position, especially once the goo is applied. h sits next to me, jude on her lap. i ask jude if she wants to hold hands. she says yes. she calms down. when she gets scared again, she pushes her favorite doggy stuffed animal to my face for a kiss. it tickles. i try not to sneeze or laugh. i can’t see the big screen in front of me, where the silent sonographer takes ziggy’s measurements.

soon, jude becomes excited about the wriggling fetus on tv. beebee! beebee! beebee! she shrieks loudly, an excited mantra, over and over. sonographer says, “how old is she?” with not much interest for an answer. “22 months,” i reply, and then answer her real question: “yes, this is how she is all the time.” meanwhile, sonographer is spending a lot of time measuring ziggy’s kidneys. and unless prompted, she doesn’t answer any questions.

finally, the big reveal. ziggy’s legs are modestly placed together, and sonographer pokes around a bit with the transducer until something appears between the legs. something which turns out to be a penis. a boy. a boy. a boy.

sonographer is done. i ask if we can have a profile pic, you know, for the family album. she says yes, and annoyed, she finds ziggy’s–my son, ziggy’s–profile, and takes a couple stills. she then hurries out of the room, saying the dr will look over the measurements and let us know that everything is fine with our boy.

a few minutes turns into twenty. the doctor is performing a procedure of some sort. we wait. jude eats a pb&j, rolls around on the floor, takes off her shoes, whines about the baby not being on tv anymore, wants to play with all the instruments in the room. h says she is getting worried about how long this is taking. uncle g busies himself with jude. i am numb, trying not to worry about the fact that we’re still waiting in an exam room. i am trying to get my brain to understand that i am growing a boy, a son. my son. my boy.

sonographer comes back at the end of eternity, with news that ziggy has fluid in his kidneys. they like to see fluid levels be under 6 (mm?) and his were something like 5.4 and 5.6. this is common in boys, she says. it usually self-corrects. we’d like to schedule another ultrasound in 10 weeks. i don’t know how to interpret this information. i say, if this were really bad news, the doctor would be talking to us right? she says yes, that’s true. this is nothing to worry about…for now. we’re ushered out the door.

later, i call my midwife. she jumps up and down with joy about my boy, about her correct guess. and she tells me, very specifically: hear me, listen to my words. this happens all the time. i have NEVER seen it NOT correct itself. EVER. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT THIS.

…i am reminding myself of this every day. worry not worry not worry not.


that night, h and i talked a long time about grieving the fact that we’re not having a daughter. the grief does not diminish, in any way, our joy about having a boy ziggy, but it was a real grief, and one that needed to be honored. we talked about our fears of being two women raising a son. i know what it means, what it feels like, to be a good woman, we agreed. i don’t know what it feels like to be a good man. and then we followed with the tentative conclusion of: we both know what it means to be a good person, and that is enough.

we rejoiced in the fact that uncle g and his dad, pop pop, will be two present and extraordinarily good men in zig’s life. if he grows up to be like them in spirit and kindness, we will have succeeded as parents.

we talked about circumcision, about which we are on the same page.

and then we cuddled into sleep, our hands both on my belly, and tried to swallow and understand the wonder of our son.

baby sexy leg!
chomp chomp chomp
sucking on fingers.
aka jack the pumpkin king.
look closely: boy
boy?  boy.

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hi. i have a son. more later, once the words come back to my brain and the feeling comes back to my toes.

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the big reveal is at 2pm cdt tomorrow. there is still time for vote. as of 7pm, the internal voters have 52% of the vote. what say you?

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vote.

peep the sidebar. weds is zig’s big reveal, unless s/he holds out on us. vote!

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