dear son in my womb,
your stretching and kicking and crazy belly acrobatics make me think that you're practicing for a future career as a pilates instructor. and really, if that's what your heart desires, then i'm all for it. but i don't think your father will be as thrilled. i'm not even sure he knows what pilates is. better tone it down, son.
in other news, your father thinks i'm weird because i made the following video. it's our first dance, you and me. i was introducing you to good music -- elvis, johnny cash -- tunes you won't listen to very much if you continue on this pilates path in life. just kidding.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
030
dear baby eric,
it's been a while. lots has happened in the last couple of weeks. i'm well into our third trimester, i've been told by my doctor to rest more because my blood pressure is pre-hypertensive, i have random cramps, and i've had a few contractions.
needless to say, you're on your way in the next few weeks. tomorrow we'll officially be 32 weeks along, which means that we only have 8 more weeks until your due date. your father and i are thinking about all sorts of scarily important things to prepare for your arrival, like creating a birth plan. i desperately need to look into birthing classes as well. after feeling just a few mild contractions last week, i think i could use some education about coping techniques in case the pain of labor becomes too much. ideally, i'd love to give birth to you without being given too much medicine. don't want your entrance into the world to be marred by drugs, you know?
my tummy seems to have grown by leaps and bounds these past couple of weeks. i'm much more sensitive to your movement. i feel you much higher up in my ribs, but also waaaay down low in my pelvis as well. you like to dance on my bladder, and it's sore.
sometimes, i can feel your little knee or elbow poking out my side. your joints feel knobby under my skin.
sometimes, when i poke and prod at my belly, you'll kick in response.
it's been a while. lots has happened in the last couple of weeks. i'm well into our third trimester, i've been told by my doctor to rest more because my blood pressure is pre-hypertensive, i have random cramps, and i've had a few contractions.
needless to say, you're on your way in the next few weeks. tomorrow we'll officially be 32 weeks along, which means that we only have 8 more weeks until your due date. your father and i are thinking about all sorts of scarily important things to prepare for your arrival, like creating a birth plan. i desperately need to look into birthing classes as well. after feeling just a few mild contractions last week, i think i could use some education about coping techniques in case the pain of labor becomes too much. ideally, i'd love to give birth to you without being given too much medicine. don't want your entrance into the world to be marred by drugs, you know?
my tummy seems to have grown by leaps and bounds these past couple of weeks. i'm much more sensitive to your movement. i feel you much higher up in my ribs, but also waaaay down low in my pelvis as well. you like to dance on my bladder, and it's sore.
sometimes, i can feel your little knee or elbow poking out my side. your joints feel knobby under my skin.
sometimes, when i poke and prod at my belly, you'll kick in response.
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| 30 weeks |
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| BOOM! |
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| our halloween costume, which we wore on nevada day, but not on halloween... |
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| 31 weeks |
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| 31 weeks |
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
028
dear baby eric:
i have a ridiculous head cold and there's not much i can do about it because i'm in my seventh month of pregnancy. apparently, over-the-counter medications to alleviate cold symptoms aren't safe for ladies in their third trimester. still, i called the doctor this afternoon hoping he could do something for me, and he said i could take sudafed every so often -- just not SO often. it's been 90 or so minutes since i popped a couple pills and i've yet to experience any relief. so it now feels as if my belly and/or my head will explode any minute.
i think it's funny, baby, that people think i'm not very pregnant. they look at my belly and assume i'm only about four or five months along, and they're surprised when i tell them i'm in my third trimester. i hope that means you're healthy. the doctor never seems worried when he measures my belly or listens to your heartbeat, which means to me that you're right on track. but i hope you're a hearty kid. i don't want you to be a pipsqueak.
by the way, baby, today's my birthday. i'm 28 weeks along now, which means there's only 12 more to go. some photos:
i have a ridiculous head cold and there's not much i can do about it because i'm in my seventh month of pregnancy. apparently, over-the-counter medications to alleviate cold symptoms aren't safe for ladies in their third trimester. still, i called the doctor this afternoon hoping he could do something for me, and he said i could take sudafed every so often -- just not SO often. it's been 90 or so minutes since i popped a couple pills and i've yet to experience any relief. so it now feels as if my belly and/or my head will explode any minute.
i think it's funny, baby, that people think i'm not very pregnant. they look at my belly and assume i'm only about four or five months along, and they're surprised when i tell them i'm in my third trimester. i hope that means you're healthy. the doctor never seems worried when he measures my belly or listens to your heartbeat, which means to me that you're right on track. but i hope you're a hearty kid. i don't want you to be a pipsqueak.
by the way, baby, today's my birthday. i'm 28 weeks along now, which means there's only 12 more to go. some photos:
Monday, October 3, 2011
027
dear baby eric,
i haven't written in a while mostly because there hasn't been anything exciting to update. you're growing, of course. my belly is large and my skin is stretched taut, which is at times uncomfortable but i deal with it. i don't know the meaning of a "good night's rest" anymore because you get feisty and kick-y when i lay down to rest, and it seems i can't go an hour without a break for the bathroom. not only that, but the weight of you on my hips causes uncomfortable cramps if i don't switch positions every hour or so as well. needless to say, i haven't gotten a solid sleep in a long time.
summer seems to be on the way out. officially, it's autumn now but we've still been dealing with ridiculously warm temperatures. there's a raging wind storm outside as i type this, however, and i'm hoping it blows away the heat and the coolness of fall will finally settle in. you're a warm little guy, and you bring up my body temperature quite a bit, so i'm looking forward to feeling comfier in colder temps as the weeks go on.
this week marks the end of my second trimester, which means we're in the home stretch! we only have october, november, and december left to conquer before you arrive sometime in early january.
my baby shower is next month, and your grandpa lovell will be here for the event. definitely looking forward to that and receiving all sorts of goodies to make your life (and mine! and your fathers...) easier when we welcome you to the world.
27 weeks today, baby boy. only 13 more to go!
i haven't written in a while mostly because there hasn't been anything exciting to update. you're growing, of course. my belly is large and my skin is stretched taut, which is at times uncomfortable but i deal with it. i don't know the meaning of a "good night's rest" anymore because you get feisty and kick-y when i lay down to rest, and it seems i can't go an hour without a break for the bathroom. not only that, but the weight of you on my hips causes uncomfortable cramps if i don't switch positions every hour or so as well. needless to say, i haven't gotten a solid sleep in a long time.
summer seems to be on the way out. officially, it's autumn now but we've still been dealing with ridiculously warm temperatures. there's a raging wind storm outside as i type this, however, and i'm hoping it blows away the heat and the coolness of fall will finally settle in. you're a warm little guy, and you bring up my body temperature quite a bit, so i'm looking forward to feeling comfier in colder temps as the weeks go on.
this week marks the end of my second trimester, which means we're in the home stretch! we only have october, november, and december left to conquer before you arrive sometime in early january.
my baby shower is next month, and your grandpa lovell will be here for the event. definitely looking forward to that and receiving all sorts of goodies to make your life (and mine! and your fathers...) easier when we welcome you to the world.
27 weeks today, baby boy. only 13 more to go!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
026
dear baby eric,
you have a name! your dad and i had a lovely dinner last week with jean and bob, the parents of our friend eric who passed away in april. we figured out that you were probably conceived about a week before eric's death. eric was one of your father's best friends, and he made an impact on my life during the short time i knew him as well. we received jean and bob's blessing to name you after him. he was an extraordinary person, baby. adventurous and energetic but poetic and introspective and compassionate and friendly and so giving of himself. though i know you'll grow up to be a unique individual, i hope you'll also embody some of those characteristics as well. and i find it so reassuring to know that our friend eric will be your guardian angel. he was practically fearless. it's good to know that your angel will be willing to accompany you on all the crazy twists and turns your path in life will take.
you've been kicking up a storm lately, baby, so much so that your dad finally felt you move a few nights ago. we were in bed, settling in for the evening, about to fall asleep. he laid his hand across my tummy and i felt your little flutters on the other side of my abdomen. i moved his hand and you kicked it softly a couple times. your dad smiled, awestruck.
i think you're experiencing a growth spurt, too. you're pushing more into my upper body, my diaphragm, making it difficult for me to get a good breath of air.
i was cleaning out an old purse the other day and found the pregnancy tests i took that confirmed i was expecting you. i'd stashed them in my purse when i headed out to meet your dad to tell him the news. i wasn't sure if he'd believe me, so i brought them along as proof. i thought he'd be grossed out to know i still have them, but your dad wants to keep them for your scrapbook. if this embarrasses you in the future, i'm letting you know now that it's his fault, not mine.
love you, baby. 16 more weeks 'til we meet.
24 weeks along:
you have a name! your dad and i had a lovely dinner last week with jean and bob, the parents of our friend eric who passed away in april. we figured out that you were probably conceived about a week before eric's death. eric was one of your father's best friends, and he made an impact on my life during the short time i knew him as well. we received jean and bob's blessing to name you after him. he was an extraordinary person, baby. adventurous and energetic but poetic and introspective and compassionate and friendly and so giving of himself. though i know you'll grow up to be a unique individual, i hope you'll also embody some of those characteristics as well. and i find it so reassuring to know that our friend eric will be your guardian angel. he was practically fearless. it's good to know that your angel will be willing to accompany you on all the crazy twists and turns your path in life will take.
you've been kicking up a storm lately, baby, so much so that your dad finally felt you move a few nights ago. we were in bed, settling in for the evening, about to fall asleep. he laid his hand across my tummy and i felt your little flutters on the other side of my abdomen. i moved his hand and you kicked it softly a couple times. your dad smiled, awestruck.
i think you're experiencing a growth spurt, too. you're pushing more into my upper body, my diaphragm, making it difficult for me to get a good breath of air.
i was cleaning out an old purse the other day and found the pregnancy tests i took that confirmed i was expecting you. i'd stashed them in my purse when i headed out to meet your dad to tell him the news. i wasn't sure if he'd believe me, so i brought them along as proof. i thought he'd be grossed out to know i still have them, but your dad wants to keep them for your scrapbook. if this embarrasses you in the future, i'm letting you know now that it's his fault, not mine.
love you, baby. 16 more weeks 'til we meet.
24 weeks along:
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
025
dear baby boy,
spent a few hours in the hospital a couple days ago for dehydration due to a stomach bug. i was released early yesterday morning. the nice thing about being 23 weeks pregnant and going to the hospital is that i was able to entirely bypass the emergency department. i was shuttled up to labor & delivery in a wheelchair and settled into a comfy semi-private room with pretty wallpaper and a special hospital bed made for pregnant ladies.
the nurse strapped monitors to my belly to listen to your heartbeat. you didn't like the monitors, or maybe it was the cold jelly she spread on my skin beforehand. your heartbeat came across loud and strong, along with other random funny noises that the nurse explained was you moving around. i felt you kick at the monitors, too. you're a savvy little guy -- you knew exactly where they were on my tummy and you fine tuned your little kicks right in those areas, as if you were trying to figure out why these funny things were invading your space. you'd switch between poking at the one on my lower belly and the one on my upper belly, which caused me to feel a weird tickling and rolling sensation up and down my abdomen. it was a nice distraction from the nausea and pain i'd been feeling for days.
you've been rather quiet since then, though. i'm guessing all that activity was due to related discomfort from the stomach bug i had. i think i'm more or less over it now. i took it pretty easy yesterday, but i was able to keep food and liquids down all day. the effort in doing that tuckered us both out, though. we napped away a good portion of the day, you and i.
yesterday was a frightening day, baby. a rogue gunman opened fire in the carson city IHOP and killed three people, injured another eight, and then committed suicide. your father and i eat there often. if i'd been released form the hospital later in the morning, we might've stopped by there for breakfast.
sometimes i wonder what kind of world i'm bringing you in to. what kind of mother am i to invite you into a world where our country's been at war for ten years with know discernible goal or end date in sight, where children in other countries are dying form starvation before their first birthdays, where our world leaders care more about their twitter updates and celebrity status than solving problems and creating progress. how can i bring you into a world where it's not even safe to go to the neighborhood diner for a meal?
but maybe you'll be the answer to one or some or all of these problems, baby. you're a clean slate, brand new, full of potential. maybe you'll grow up to cure cancer, or to be the president of the united states who actually unites everyone for a common good. your life was created and conceived despite barriers and boundaries that your father and i put in place to prevent pregnancy, which makes us believe that your life is that much more significant. every life is precious, baby, but YOU are our gift.
spent a few hours in the hospital a couple days ago for dehydration due to a stomach bug. i was released early yesterday morning. the nice thing about being 23 weeks pregnant and going to the hospital is that i was able to entirely bypass the emergency department. i was shuttled up to labor & delivery in a wheelchair and settled into a comfy semi-private room with pretty wallpaper and a special hospital bed made for pregnant ladies.
the nurse strapped monitors to my belly to listen to your heartbeat. you didn't like the monitors, or maybe it was the cold jelly she spread on my skin beforehand. your heartbeat came across loud and strong, along with other random funny noises that the nurse explained was you moving around. i felt you kick at the monitors, too. you're a savvy little guy -- you knew exactly where they were on my tummy and you fine tuned your little kicks right in those areas, as if you were trying to figure out why these funny things were invading your space. you'd switch between poking at the one on my lower belly and the one on my upper belly, which caused me to feel a weird tickling and rolling sensation up and down my abdomen. it was a nice distraction from the nausea and pain i'd been feeling for days.
you've been rather quiet since then, though. i'm guessing all that activity was due to related discomfort from the stomach bug i had. i think i'm more or less over it now. i took it pretty easy yesterday, but i was able to keep food and liquids down all day. the effort in doing that tuckered us both out, though. we napped away a good portion of the day, you and i.
yesterday was a frightening day, baby. a rogue gunman opened fire in the carson city IHOP and killed three people, injured another eight, and then committed suicide. your father and i eat there often. if i'd been released form the hospital later in the morning, we might've stopped by there for breakfast.
sometimes i wonder what kind of world i'm bringing you in to. what kind of mother am i to invite you into a world where our country's been at war for ten years with know discernible goal or end date in sight, where children in other countries are dying form starvation before their first birthdays, where our world leaders care more about their twitter updates and celebrity status than solving problems and creating progress. how can i bring you into a world where it's not even safe to go to the neighborhood diner for a meal?
but maybe you'll be the answer to one or some or all of these problems, baby. you're a clean slate, brand new, full of potential. maybe you'll grow up to cure cancer, or to be the president of the united states who actually unites everyone for a common good. your life was created and conceived despite barriers and boundaries that your father and i put in place to prevent pregnancy, which makes us believe that your life is that much more significant. every life is precious, baby, but YOU are our gift.
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