Thursday, February 26, 2015

Telling Baby Stories

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.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

It's sunny


It's sunny but it's negative-something-degrees out there. And so begins my constant day dreaming of days beyond February to when the yard is covered in violets, the sunshine is warm, and our hammock is out.


These are all photos from last year, early April. A reminder that it's a promise not too far away.

This happens every year, but this year is particularly bad. I'm just going to say it, I do not make a good pregnant woman. The morning sickness has been so bad, especially the past three days, that I can count on one hand the foods I've managed to fully digest. I think that if I could just get some fresh air, it would help so very much. Everything feels stale and everything smells funny. It's hard when your alternative is going outside where the air hurts your lungs and your face.


So I'm trying to be patient and go with this. Surrender to the reality that this is where I am and that it too will pass. Winter will pass. Morning sickness will pass. Pregnancy will pass. May will eventually come to Rochester and bring with it some warmth with the smell of dirt and the ability to spend time outside.



I'm thinking about how good it will feel to get the porch swing hung, the beds dug up, plans for a deck started. I know, I know - I'm supposed to be dreaming about nurseries. But my nesting takes me to dreaming about a baby wrapped around my body and walks through the neighborhood & days spent in the garden. I have zero fantasies about being inside with this child. (Thank goodness it will be born before the leaves change. I don't think I'd make it with a winter baby.)



Maybe it's the snow or being stir crazy from another day chained to the nearest bathroom. But my dream nursery is a sunny day, a light breeze, birds singing, and a hammock. I planted over 300 bulbs in the front yard late this fall like a promise I knew I would need to see bloom come April. They're under those 3 feet of snow just waiting to add some color to this blah, I just know it.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Baby


Soooooo...Matt and I are having a baby that is due late this August/early September! Yay! Though I'm not going to lie, it's been an emotional rollercoaster - especially since loosing our last babe in July. Apparently the infant loss world would call this coming child our "rainbow baby" or a reminder that even though bad things you should be reminded that good can also come. (Noah, ark, rainbow, and all of that jazz.) I think it's a nice message, though it certainly doesn't make the previous loss any easier.

It's been a rocky start, immediately after finding out this babe was in the uterus where it's supposed to be, I got bronchitis that lasted a month. That combined with a couple of other health issues has put me down and out. You really can't take anything in your first trimester short of very weak antibiotics; though I will say I was very grateful for those.

I'm happy to report that now it's only morning (mid-afternoon & evening) sickness and random bits of exhaustion. Yesterday I ate dinner and then slept for 12 hours. I like to think of it as a power-up for growing this baby. I'm okay with lots'a naps.

So this is where I am right now, with a lime in my belly; one pair of pants that adequately fits; and loss of giant chunks of time due to a combination of baby-brain (that really is a thing I'm finding out) nausea and sleep.

I mean this in all sincerity - it really is the best.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Sugar


As my friends and family dig out of the 6 feet of snow in Buffalo, we're settling in to watch Silicon Valley. I am also dreaming of cupcakes. This is what happens when you sugar dairy detox. Cupcakes. Sprinkled, sparkly, dancing, cupcakes.

Also, this post is nonsense. Like how today, a Tuesday, feels like a far away Friday. smh.