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Letters to Noah: Steph's Pregnancy Journal - Baby Journals

Old May 22nd, 2008, 08:30 AM   #1
doctormacgyver
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Letters to Noah: Steph's Pregnancy Journal

May 22, 2008
(24 weeks and 2 days pregnant)

Noah,

Iíve really put off keeping any type of a pregnancy journal; I was always afraid that I would never be able to put into words how I feel about you already. Whatever I might write would be lacking, not in emotion or intention, but in breadth. How can I explain to you how much we love you? How can you possibly understand how youíve changed our lives already, how youíve given us purpose, how youíve filled a hole that we never knew existed, how youíve completed us in a way that I didnít think was necessary, or even possible? (I feel this is an appropriate time to tell you that Iím not usually this cheesy; Iíd like to think itís the hormones talking, but I donít believe thatís the case). I guess what Iím trying to say is this: I want you to know that we love you, weíve loved you since before you existed, and we will always love you. We love you in a way you may not fully understand until youíre a daddy (which will be in a long, LONG time J . ) But take my word for it, ok?

First, let me start by introducing you to your new family. We have two dogs: Danny and Tyson. Iím sure you hear them already, barking at the mailman, play growling over a tug toy, being generally unruly. You will love them, I bet. Just not when youíre napping. We will, on occasion, refer to them as your brothers; please donít be offended, weíre just those type of people (sorry). We also have a lovebird named Angus. You probably hear him already too. Heís the shrill one (no, thank goodness, its not your dad). Heís loud and bossy, You may hear your dad say that he hates him; he doesnít. I see him play mirroring games and rub his beak when he thinks Iím not watching. Keep this in mind-Mommy sees all. Then thereís Daddy. What can I say about him? Heís the tall one with the facial hair. Youíll recognize him because heíll be the one doing the cooking, the laundry, and rubbing my feet while I check my email. Just kidding (sort of). Heíll probably also be the one blowing on your tummy (donít worry, he likes to do this to me as well) and giving you cookies before dinner and showing you how to put a worm on a fishing hook and how to be a good, decent, loyal, honest, hardworking, loving, gentle, selfless man. I know youíre going to be a lucky kid. Youíve already got the greatest dad in the world (Iím sure there will be times when youíll beg to differ). But, Noah, he loves you so much already. He canít wait to show you things, and teach you things, and learn from you. He tells you everyday that he loves you, he reads you stories (mostly Dr. Seuss), he gives you kisses, and, yes, heís even been known to sing to you. Iím not sure how you feel about punk rock, but get used to it sweetheart. Heíll probably be your favorite (heís been my favorite for almost a decade), but please keep in mind that Iím the one that carried you around for nine months; Iím the one that patted your embryonic little butt (or maybe head, its hard to tell at this point) in between wretches during those long stretches of night before you had your placenta; Iím the one that doubled in girth to build you a comfy nest (this will be one of those rare times when I wonít make a joke at Daddyís expense); and Iím the one that cried ecstatic tears when you kicked me the first time (and the second, third, fourthÖ Weíre going to have to have a talk about this when you get out here, actually). I guess that brings us to me. Hi. Iím your mom. Iíll be the neurotic one with the constant look of concern. And Iíll probably be the less fun parent who makes you clean your room and get a haircut, but, I promise, Iíll also be the one at every one of your soccer games (or ballet recitals-whatever youíre into). Iíll be the one that makes you say please and thank you every single time and hold the door open for the ladies, but Iíll also be the one who tells you I love you and tucks you in every single night before you fall asleep. Iíll be the one who doesnít let you go to an unchaperoned party at your ďfriendĒ Tiffanyís parentsí cottage up north or play with water balloons in the house; but Iíll also be the one who fixes your skinned knees with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle band-aids and kisses, and loves you in that unconditional, instinctive, forgiving, unwavering way that only Mommies can.

We wonít be perfect parents, Noah. And, Iím sure you wonít be the perfect son. But I promise, there arenít two parents in existence that will love you more.

Love,
Mom


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Old May 22nd, 2008, 01:52 PM   #2
BrokenAngel
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Wow, what a great letter. It made me cry, in a good way, heh. I remember alot of the same things you mentioned, and I guess partially because I am hoping for a son this pregnancy. Good luck! It sounds like yall will be great parents


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Old June 4th, 2008, 07:10 PM   #3
doctormacgyver
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June 4, 2008
(26 weeks and 1 day pregnant)

Noah,

I thought I should tell you a little bit about how you came to be (no, not in excessive detail), and maybe a little about whatís been happening in your life so far. I hope youíre as interested in every millisecond of your life (someday) as I have been, and still am.

Daddyís wanted you since the very beginning of our relationship; I was looking at some old letters and poems he had written to me the other day, and even back then, when we were only juniors in high school, he wrote of us having children some day. I guess heís been waiting on me all along. I was a bit more hesitant. The sheer notion of such a responsibility is intimidating. I mean, weíre accountable for this entire human being-for you-for your health, your safety, your happiness, your comfort, for the type of man you become, for your impact on society, for your entire existence. Thatís a pretty scary thought. Even now it frightens me. I just so want for you to have every happiness and every opportunity and to know every bit of love there is to know on this planet. But how do we keep from messing that up? I donít think anyone has the answer to that, my dear. I hope you can appreciate our efforts, though, and forgive our deficiencies. Eventually, though, that maternal instinct kicked in, and I just knew I was not only ready for you, but I was aching for you. I donít think there was ever anything I wanted more in my life than for you to be conceived. I was never more thrilled in my life than the moment we saw that positive pregnancy test; and I was never more terrified. Daddy cried (he does that). Then I cried. And we spent a good long while staring at each other blankly, wondering what we should do next. I still feel like I have that expression, sometimes. I mean, how do I prepare for you?

Weíve started by reading books, taking classes, buying you things youíll need in the first couple months of life, researching, talking, telling people, making arrangements, creating your nursery, talking to you, talking about you, and, yes, writing to you. Yet, I still donít feel completely prepared. I guess Iíll just have to trust that youíll let me know what you need, and when, and weíll have to learn each other as we go.

Letís see. What else? I guess you should know some important dates for yourself. Your first ultrasound was on January 11, 2008. You were only 5 weeks and 3 days old. You looked like a tiny little blob (which, in fact, was not that far off from the truth). But that tiny little blob was the most beautiful sight we had ever seen, Noah. To see you for the first time was like someone giving you the answer to the question ďWhat is the meaning of life?Ē You were then, and you are now, the meaning of my life. We were so relieved to see you, and so proud.

Your next big milestone was on February 18, 2008. We saw your heartbeat for the first time! (Yes, saw; you were still too little for us to hear it.) It was just this tiny little flicker on the ultrasound screen, but that was the first moment that it all became real to me. You were really in there. You were really this living creature who was going to grow inside of me, and be born, and live with us, and have opinions, and be an actual new life on this earth who never would have existed if not for your dad and I. It was a profound moment. And I will never lose that image in my head-the image of a little blob and his little flicker of a heart beat.

On March 17, 2008 we actually heard that little heart beat for the very first time (156 beats per minute). You were 15 weeks old. I remember feeling my heart in my throat as the doctor searched for you in my abdomen, squeezing Daddyís hand so tightly, holding my breath in uncertainty, and saying little prayers in my head that that heart beat was still in there, somewhere, going strong. Finally, after what seemed to be eternities, I heard what sounded like Clydesdales galloping down a dirt road; I looked at the doctor and asked, ďIs that it?Ē He smiled, and shook his head yes. I still feel like I might cry just thinking about it. (Yep, there goes a tear.) That was the biggest sigh of relief I had ever felt.

And my favorite of all so far: on April 23, 2008 we had our big gender determining (not to mention health determining) ultrasound. We were nervous wrecks (ok, mostly me.) I laid on the bed anxiously with both Daddyís hands in mine and with Grandma Nancy at our side. Within the first few seconds I was excited to see that you now actually looked like a baby (my little flickering blob was no more!) You were so cute-I think I awed every three to five seconds. You had the tiniest little fingers (which, by the way, you did perform a derogatory gesture with-Dad will show you the pictures, Iím sure), tiny little toes, and you were scrunched up into a tiny little ball that looked remarkably uncomfortable. And you were dancing! I kept thinking, how can I not feel this? Heís doing back flips in there! The ultrasound technician began by taking all your measurements. After each one, I would look nervously up at her and ask, ďIs that normal?Ē and she would always answer with a laugh, ďYes, thatís just fine.Ē And I was thrilled! Our baby was healthy and normal and had all his digits! Then, just when I thought we couldnít be any happier, she said, very matter-of -factly, ďThereís a leg, and thereís a leg, and thereís a leg.Ē It didnít register for me right away (it was a small moment of panic). But within a millisecond, I looked at the smile on her face, and I literally screamed. And then I sobbed. I was so sure you were going to be a girl, and that was just the very best surprise of my entire life. I havenít been able to stop smiling since. So, she showed us your boy parts, and when Daddy asked if everything was there that should be there, we all laughed at him. And when the tech exclaimed, ďWell, thatís his son!Ē my heart just ignited. Our son! That sounds so beautiful. I canít wait to show you all the pictures-the first pictures of our son.

And, as if that day wasnít thrilling enough, it got better. In the middle of the night, I felt you kick for the first time. At first I wasnít sure-it felt like little bubbles popping inside my abdomen, but after a few moments, I knew it was you. I laid awake there with my hand on my stomach feeling you move, and feeling so profoundly lucky that I couldnít even cry (thank goodness). Eventually, after you fell back asleep, I woke up Daddy to tell him, and Iíll never forget what he said to me. ďWow, it is a big day.Ē And right back to snoring. Thatís so your dad. But I just kept smiling. I donít think Iíve ever lost the thrill of feeling you move. I donít think I ever will.

I love you,
Mom


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Old November 3rd, 2008, 12:02 AM   #4
doctormacgyver
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November 2, 2008
(Youíre 10 weeks and 4 days old)

Wow! I havenít written in quite some time; you keep me very busy, little man.

As we were finishing our nightly routine this evening (bath, feeding, and a book-ĒThe Giving Tree,Ē if youĎre interested), I looked down at you and was struck with a flood of emotions-overwhelming happinessÖ.and sadness. Happiness, because I am lucky enough to be the mom of the most beautiful, sweet, perfect person that I have ever known; I try every single day to feel worthy of you. And sadness, because time is slipping through my fingers like sand. Iím so afraid of missing a single moment of you-a smile or laugh, a look of discovery, an excited glow of accomplishment when you get your thumb into your mouth, a squeal, a spit up, a hiccup or sneeze or one of those incredible moments when our eyes meet. I just want to record every moment of your life and play it over again every day in my heart. But I know thatís just not possible. The closest I can imagine is this. This is my wildly condensed list of the things I love about you (so far)-things I will not let myself forget, even when youíre a difficult teenager who slams doors and curses and ďhates me.Ē

I love your fuzzy monkey hair; I think it will be dark like mine, but it looks a little red now. Itís a little like a mullet (long in back and short up top), but you can pull it off (you, and no one else). I love your eyes. Weíre not sure, yet, if theyíll be blue like your daddyís or brown like mine, but they are always filled with this look of omniscience. When I look at you, I am in awe. I feel as though you know more than I ever will; youíve already taught me so much-about selflessness, about myself, about priorities, about life. I only hope I can teach you something, someday., thatís worth half of that. I love your face; I love your fluffy cheeks and your tiny, perfect chin, your cute little nose, your double chin (itíll go away, I promise), and I love your lips-you have your daddyís lips. They look like a snapping turtleís mouth. I love how you laugh with that mouth, and eat with that mouth, and the big, gummy smiles you smile with that mouth; I love the noises that come from it, the wiggly tongue inside it, and how you purse it shut tightly when youíre done eating (you definitely know what you want). I love your dimples-I was so excited when you were born and I saw your dimples. It was one of the first things I fell in love with on your dad, and it makes me smile (and cry, a little) to think that, one day, someone (else) will fall in love with yours. I love your tiny neck-it looks so fragile, but its so strong-just like you. I love your chunky arms and legs, and your big man feet (you have your dadís big toe), and your groping little hands, especially when they find my hands. I love your Buddha belly, and your tiny little belly button (now that your cord has fallen off), and your dimply little butt. I love how you coo and scream at me so that I will imitate you-its like our own little secret game. I love how you search for food by groping wildly at the air with your eyes closed and mouth wide open-youíre my baby bird. I love how you smell. I love the touch of your skin. I love to eat your fingers. I love how you fall asleep on my chest and the feeling of our breaths in sync. I love how you make me feel like you are the only baby and I am the only mother to ever exist, and how even though weíre no longer sharing the same body, youíre still a part of me-the best part of me.

Love,
Mom


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