The treats I made my coworkers to tell them I was pregnant.
I write a lot at work and I tell a lot of stories. Half of my job is basically PR so I write a lot of stories, tell a lot of stories, pick angles and write quotes that make sense to an overall strategy, and help other people tell their story.
It's crazy, and hard, and exhausting, and there is never enough time, and never enough control - but I love it. I absolutely love hearing a person, mission, or company tell me their story and then getting to share a version of that conversation with the world.
Which is what makes it funny that I no longer write for myself. I've never been disciplined enough to keep a journal. (Save for the one I had when I was in fourth grade where I basically kept track of the boys I had a crush on in school. In crayon.) I used to write here more, if not daily then weekly - just like I did on the four other websites I had before this blog. When I was in school I wrote short stories, poems, and essays like a boss. I think once I started a piece of fiction - but it is so buried in depths of my Mac that I'm not even sure I could find it again.
I was thinking last night how nice it must be to be the kind of mother who keeps a running diary of her life for her kids to read when she's old and grey (or dead). How nice that they could understand what she was like as a person, not necessarily their mother. What a gift to be able to give your child of at least the story of their 9 months in your belly. Life before them, the experience of their life as your life.
I'm sorry to say that the random blogs I write during this time and the shoe box of random things like sonogram photos, hospital bracelets, and congratulations cards are about all this baby is getting. I just can't do it - a journal, a scrapbook, a baby book. It's a beautiful idea but the formality of it takes so much out of me and makes me squirm. Maybe it's telling other people's stories all of the time in this fluid and meta way that makes the details of my own life so tedious.
Anyway as I close on the first trimester - here, baby, is a random list of things for you to know. I'm sorry they're not more poetic.
- You happened really fast. So fast I really didn't believe it and was scared to tell your father. He was thrilled and that really made it all okay.
- I took every test I could to make sure nothing was wrong and so we could set you up with help if you needed it. I am scarred and broken from loosing your sibling and so I took every needle prick, Drs appointment, and blood draw like a champ. If you knew the pre-you-me, you'd understand that this is love.
- I got really sick immediately after finding out about you with horrible bronchitis and an abscess. I was miserable but your father was a hero and took care of me the whole time - even giving the stink eye to the nosy people in the ER when they were a little too invasive.
- After all of that cleared (kind of) I got the worst morning sickness. All day sickness. I puke a lot and eat strategically. I'm probably no longer a foodie and I definitely do not make for a glowy pregnant woman.
- I eat mostly raw vegetables, orange juice, cheese and candy because it's all I can keep down. I worry it's not enough but the Drs seem unworried. I can eat regular bread now thanks to you I guess, so that's a silver lining I'm enjoying on occasion.
- Your aunts and the other women in my life have been the best. I don't think I've ever felt so loved, protected, and like a member of a community. If having a baby changes nothing else I will say it has made so many friendships stronger and opened me to seeing the compassion in so many women in my life.
- Your father has spoiled me and I may not recover from this to being the fully independent woman I was before you. Because, why? That life was way harder than this one.
- I am scared to feel you move inside me. Hearing your heartbeat was comforting and then immediately creeped me out. I'm sorry. I love you, but it's very unsettling to be sharing my insides with another person.
- Your father is cuddly and happy by nature where I am not. Please use this to your benefit and twist him around your finger - you'll need it.
- You make me fart. All. Of. The. Time. It's gross.
- I am horrified you might be born on my birthday. I think you should have your own birthday. Who wants to share their birthday?
- This has been the coldest winter I can ever remember; I don't think I've been truly warm since you've existed. I'm sorry if this causes you to hate the cold and I totally understand if you move south as soon as you are able.
- I'm sorry not sorry that your name will be hyphenated. You are a Varble as much as you are a Bielewicz. It's the way it should be.
- I will be secretly mad at you if you are allergic to peanut butter, strawberries, or other foods I love. I will tell you I am not - but I am lying.
- I'm happy you're coming at the end of Summer. Fall is my favorite time of year - the best time in Western New York and I plan to spend as much of it outside with you as possible. I hope you enjoy it.