Nothin’!
Nothin’! Nothin’! Nothin’!Went to my 41 week OB appointment yesterday afternoon — 90% effaced (direct quote from the doctor: “Your cervix is as thin as paper”), 0 dilated.
Tonight there will be a full moon — my parents swear that this will be the night. We shall see if Baby Sister agrees…
Here’s hoping!!!Every night we say prayers and we all repeat it together. We’ve recently started adding a little personal prayer where each person talks to God followed by Amen. Heather starts, then me, then Kyle and last is Owen. In our little 1-time-is-a-ritual family, that’s how we do it now – every night. For this little personal prayer at the end all kinds of things come out: “Thank you for school, I love it”, “I love my Mommy and Papi“, “Thank you Dear God, it was a beautiful day.”
Tonight, after Owen rambled and said his prayer, he also said the following, completely unprompted. In fact, we’ve never used this phrase with him and are pretty sure no body else around here has either.
“…and please have the baby come out, because it’s hurting in my heart. Amen”
We’ve been working on pumping skills (when swinging) lately. For as physically agile and ridiculously adept as Kyle and Owen are, their swinging-pumping skills have always been surprisingly lackluster. Given that they — for example — walked at 10 months, could hit golf balls very hard and very far at 14 months (hard and far enough that one of Kyle’s hits from the front yard broke a window in our house), were shooting hoops to a full height basket at 18 months, were riding Razor scooters (and doing tricks on them) at 24 months, were diving swan dives off the ledge of the pool (and swimming underwater the width of the pool) at 2 years 2 months, were snorkeling in the open Caribbean when they were barely 3, and are now hitting baseballs into the neighbors’ yards at barely 4… (… you get the drift…)… you’d think that they could pump on a swing. But no. So lately we’ve been really trying to get them to grasp the whole pumping concept: in and out, in and out, in and out. Really, I think they just really like being pushed and have no motivation to learn to pump. But with a lot of coaching and a lot of coaxing, they are starting to get better at it. This weekend we saw their swinging skillz greatly improve. And I see this as a metaphor for the weekend for all of us: in and out, in and out, in and out.
Our emotions are like four pendulums, our tempers are swinging, our patience is swaying, etc. Again, you get the drift — lots of fussing, screaming, tantruming, dropping-onto-the-floor-in-a-weeping-heap (I’m speaking both literally and figuratively for all four of us here!). But also lots of moments of sweet contentment, sheer happiness, empathy, and pulling together too. Kyle kisses my belly hundreds of times a day just at random, and tells me “Mommy, I love that baby inside there.” Owen talks gently to the baby regularly trying to convince her to “get out of there.” In hopes to find inspiration for tolerance, Braydon is back to re-reading our favorite parenting book of all time (the perfect owners manual for our particular twinados; OMG are our boys ever classic textbook SSpirited with a double capital ‘S’) — Raising Your Spirited Child (click here). And I’m just basically using every single bit of self-control I have in me to try to remain calm amidst the storm. K & O are trying to be good for their frazzled parents (which is a lot for them, all things considered). And Braydon and I are trying to keep up with our wild high-energy pushing-pushing-pushing boys (which is a lot for us, all things considered). I feel like we’re all in and out, in and out, in and out. And not usually swinging in coordination with one another. But we’re dealing. And trying to pass the time. What else are we supposed to do?
The truth is, this is nothing compared to the waiting that we went through (all four of us) during our adoption. Nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to that. This just pales in comparison. Pales. I think about that constantly. I can’t really speak for what K & O must have gone through (I hate to even let myself think about what those first eight months of life were like for them). So I’ll only speak for myself here. But I can confidently say: I’d take the in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out emotional rollercoaster of physical discomfort, aches and pains, feeling like a beached whale, hard-to-sleep, everyone-on-the-edge-of-their-seat, trying-to-pass-time, 4-days-passed-the-due-date, weirdness of this melodrama over the in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out emotional rollercoaster of a literal ticking-clock, life-or-death, tiny-babies-barely-surviving-in-a-Haitian-orphanage, no-end-in-sight, sleepless nights melodrama of our Haitian adoption process any day of the week. Seriously. I’m sorry if that offends anyone out there who just doesn’t get it. But it is the honest to God truth. After having gone through what we went through (and knowing the stories of so many others who have gone through much worse), I have a hard time complaining about this. It is all relative. So, at the end of the day (or the end of a very loooong past-due-date weekend, as the case may be), and at the end of this pregnancy (hopefully the end!!!!!!!!!!!) I really can’t bear to complain. It just feels foolish to me — the idea of complaining about something so relatively easy. Yes, being 9 months + 4 days pregnant kind of sucks. Yes, I’m ready to be done with this. Yes, I kind of want to spend the entire day napping. Yes, I kind of wish someone would devote themselves to catering to my every whim for the remainder of this baby-countdown. But it really isn’t that bad. In comparison… it really, really isn’t. And so we just keep swinging.
Here are some random (very random!) shots from the weekend. Our good camera is packed for the hospital, so we just have our old camera out — and our photo taking has been sporadic, at best.
In other news — interestingly, June was back with us pretty much full-time this weekend. (For those of you who don’t know about K & O’s imaginary friend click here for one of many posts where we have written about her.) Here are some fun facts that I’ve learned about June these past couple of days:
- June’s bike is black
- June’s raincoat is gray
- June’s rainboots are blue and green
- When June “has a pee pee accident in the night” (i.e., wets her bed) she “cleans herself up all by herself”
- When June goes out to lunch with us she always orders macaroni and cheese, if at all possible
- When June goes out to lunch with us at California Tortilla (where mac ‘n cheese is not possible) she chooses an Oatmeal Raisin cookie over a brownie for dessert after she finishes her burrito (just like K & O)
- June has her own bedroom — it is between Kyle and Owen’s bedrooms
- June has a peace crane hanging from the ceiling in her bedroom — just like K & O do
- June is not good at pumping
- June is not K & O’s sister
- June is not going to be allowed to hold Baby Sister (she’ll have her own baby)
- June’s age is variable depending on what we (or she) is doing at any given moment — sometimes she’s 4, sometimes 10, sometimes (often) she’s 35 or 36. And every once in a while, June is “tweety” years old (see below)
- June does not know how to snap, but she is trying to learn (see below)
And here’s some more recent random info from our neck of the woods — The Latest Re: K & O Twinspeak (click here for another post on this topic)
- “Tweety” (not to be mistaken for the word ‘twenty’ — how dare you!!!!!) is a number. This number is 100% made up by K & O and does not resemble any other number known to humankind, and yet is used in their language many times every day. From what I can gather, it means ‘many’ or ‘a lot’ or ‘a high number’ or ‘infinite.’ But, importantly, it is also fluid (i.e., it is not a fixed number and can fluctuate depending on the circumstance). It is not interchanged with any other word and does not replace any real number. Examples –there are tweety caterpillars swarming around in the nest in the tree in the front yard; the ocean has tweety fish in it; a car driving too fast is driving tweety [mph] on the road; David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez (red sox) can hit the baseball tweety far; Tiger Woods can hit the golfball tweety; a very old man might be tweety years old; sometimes June is tweety years old (when she gets to do something that K & O are not allowed to do, such as cook by herself on the hot stove); K & O are so hungry that they want to eat tweety cheese; Papi is so funny that he is tweety funny; and my favorite… K & O “love Mommy tweety times around.”
- “Snap!” is a remark. Owen can snap his fingers to make a loud snap sound. Kyle cannot. Snapping has become a big thing around here. The word “snap” is now part of K & O’s twinspeak. To say “snap!” while motioning a snap motion with their fingers in someone’s face (sound or not), indicates something along the lines of either ‘awesome! you’re totally cool! hip hip hooray!’ or ‘bummer! you’re a total drag! boo to you!’ Examples — I say, “I have an idea! Let’s go play outside!” and I get two quick loud punctuated verbal “SNAP!”‘s along with both boys jumping up and doing the snapping hand motion fast and furious in my face as they run toward the door; I say, “No, we’re going to eat dinner soon, you cannot have any cheese!” and I get two quick loud punctuated verbal “SNAP!”‘s along with both boys jumping up and doing the snapping hand motion fast and furious in my face as they give me the hairy eyeball and saunter off to the playroom; Kyle does something rude to Owen and he gets the “SNAP!” in response; Owen suggests some fun pretend game to Kyle and he gets the “SNAP!” in response; sometimes they’ll be chattering together in the backseat of the car and suddenly they’ll both do the “SNAP!” at the same time (in the midst of talking about something super cool or something that they think is a super downer).
O.k., that’s it for today. Blogging can now officially be counted as one of my “things to do to pass time waiting for baby”!!! We know that many of you are checking in here for updates — 697 of you yesterday, to be exact. We feel very checked-in-after, and I’ve gotta say– it feels good! Thank you! Don’t fret — we’ll keep you updated! 😉
Nada!
We are in a holding pattern just trying to pass the time.
Still no baby!!!!Heather is really, really ready. The baby is clearly not.
No baby.
Day After Due Date: Still no baby. It was pouring rain all day today. We had a great day!
We know that many of you are checking in on us — Braydon checked our blog meter last night and it showed that yesterday alone over 575 people visited our blog — thank you for thinking of us. Status as of today: STILL NO BABY! ;-0
Well, tomorrow is May 15, my due date. Things are getting kind of… how shall I put it?… intense… around here. We are bracing for what is about to come. We are so ready for this baby.
The photo above was taken in early September when we were at Assateague Island (see posts from September 4). It was an incredibly great weekend for our family. Just incredibly, incredibly great. By the end of the weekend we were all rejuvenated and exhausted at the same time. I remember sleeping in the car for over three hours straight on the drive home — the boys were sleeping too — but Braydon and I thought it was so odd (very, very rare) for me to be so sound asleep for so long in the car. Little did we know then that I was pregnant. What a surprise when we found out the following weekend — on Saturday night, September 8 — from a store-bought pregnancy test, that we were going to have a baby. I had been dragging and queasy and feeling funky all week. Braydon bought the test on a whim thinking, ‘could she be pregnant????’ But neither of us really thought it could be. But it was. Talk about shocking! We were totally and completely utterly shocked. And now, nine months later, here we are. Hunkering down, trying to hold strong together, just waiting for her arrival.
The picture of K & O above portrays perfectly to me what it feels like they’re doing right now. When I think about what they’re going through, I think about this photo in my mind. They are so anxious and so excited and so nervous and so full of anticipation about this huge life event that is about to unfold. In the face of it they pull together, sit tight, and face the wave head-on. The past few days they’ve been on edge– Kyle, especially, has been melting down left and right. They are just little bundles of raw nerves and emotions, so ready for this waiting-for-Baby-Sister phase to be done. So ready for her to, as they put it, “come out.” In the past 24 hours we’ve been talking about it a lot with them. They verbalize many, many things about their feelings. They’re frustrated that she’s not born yet; they’re worried she won’t be born; they’re worried she won’t be able to “really be theirs” when she’s born; they’re worried Mommy and Papi won’t be their Mommy and Papi anymore after she’s born; they’re nervous about the baby breast feeding; they’re nervous about Papi feeding the baby a bottle; they’re anxious about Mommy having to be in the hospital; they’re frustrated that they don’t know how much longer it will be; they’re excited about the baby coming soon; they’re “super excited” about bringing the baby home; they’re jealous that their friend at school now has his baby sister and they don’t have theirs yet; they feel like they “can’t wait any more” and they feel like “it is taking too long.” Talking about it really seems to help. The more we talk about it, the calmer and more even-keeled our emotionally charged boys are. So we talk about it. A lot. Mostly, though, I just see and sense their inner selves hunkering down. None of us know — really — what this new chapter will bring. It is so unknown for all of us. But for K & O especially, it is so very unknown. They are so incredibly excited and wanting this, but so incredibly bracing for whatever it may be too. Not really knowing. It is just like that photo above. They so love the splash and salt and rush and strength and full-sensation of that big wave crashing over them. They anticipate face-forward and eyes wide open the power of it, the adventure, the excitement, the drama, the life-force of it. They pull tight together in anticipation — their natural instinctive and learned reaction to all such things. And yet there they sit, two tiny little guys, amidst the hugeness of it all, the gravity of it, everything swirling around them, two little souls, trying to hold steady on shifting ground, just hoping that Mommy and Papi are right there behind them. But not turning back. They are so strong and so fragile all at once. They are so individual and so united all at once. They are so full of all that is good, hard, blissful, and scary in life… all at once. And the wave crashes on them. And they scream with thrill and squint their eyes and spit out the salt and run back to hunker down for the next wave.
It does feel now that Baby Sister will come at any moment. The physical signs are all there (according to me and my doctor). The emotion of it is in full swing, clearly. And Braydon and I are hunkering down too. It feels imminent. It feels scary. It feels content. It feels intense. It feels certain and uncertain. I remember when we looked at that pregnancy test in September and it was — shockingly — positive. We were in our bedroom and the boys were asleep in their beds. My first reaction was to realize that tears were springing from my eyes. I was surprised at myself because they were tears of sheer happiness. My very first conscious thought was, “Yes, this is exactly right, now our family will be complete.” The thought surprised me. I can’t explain why I would have that feeling. But I still do. This feels like the completing of our family. No matter how unplanned or how illogical… or how unusual our family will be… this will — at least for as far as our minds’ eyes can see — complete our family. This big wave is about to hit. We hunker down and wait. So much uncertainty swirls around us. Only two things are for certain: life for us four is about to get even more rich, and this little baby is going to have quite an interesting life.
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