2009 February 04 | Heir to Blair

Are you there, Harpie Jr? It's me, Momma.

*Disclaimer: Yes, most of this is copied & edited to fit from my first letter to Harpie. However, I spent two hours staring at the screen until I finally re-read that first letter. & started crying, because it still fits. Enjoy, since most of you probably didn’t read it the first time around…

Dear Harpie Jr,

You are officially 5 weeks and 3 days “old,” although you are just starting out in life. I am hoping that the drunken romp in the sack did not scar you for life; I would prefer that you not tell your second-grade teacher that you were conceived by gin-induced copulation (by the way, this is not true. You are the product of blindfolded sex). You are currently the size of a appleseed, so basically a wee little alien that is dividing cells to make a heart, liver, etc. Sometimes I picture your development of a nervous system much like the Matrix scene with the pods & zapping wires. You’re pretty busy right now, & it’s exhausting to me. You’re kicking my ass & I secretly love it.

I love the nausea & the exhaustion because it reminds me that you are THERE! The cramping makes me rub my uterus and when I’m alone & nobody can hear me, I tell you to snuggle in for the long ride. Every night, your daddy gets down to my belly button & says, “Hang in there, Baby.” Listen to him, mmkay? Daddy knows best.

But HJ, we need to discuss the bloat. YOU ARE MAKING YOUR MOTHER FAT. People are staring at Momma, wondering WHY she ate 15 Twinkie’s last night after the drive-thru of McDonald’s (which she didn’t, thankyouverymuch). I look like I am 4 months farther along than I am & I’m a little peeved at you for it. How about this — I promise to never make you feel fat (especially if you have a vagina), if you’ll stop making me a custard cow that needs to go up two sizes.

Despite the bloat & morning sickness…I love you, HJ. I love you with every core of my being & I have loved you since the moment you showed up as a second line. It was instantaneous, self-sacraficing, & all-consuming. You may not have a heartbeat yet, but I pray that you can feel how much I adore you (because adoration oozes through my uterine lining, I promise). I dream of you daily — the person you will become & the curls you will inherit from Daddy. I want you to know that even though you may not have been “the first,” you are the most prayed for baby in existance in this moment. We want you just as much, & if not more, than the “first” baby. I hope you & I both never forget that.

I am so excited for you, & the promise that you hold.

Love,
Momma

HeirtoBlair500x150 v41 Are you there, Harpie Jr? It's me, Momma.

FEAR. It's what's for dinner.

I know, I know…I haven’t updated in 18 hours which constitutes FOREVER in blog land. I get it.

But hey, I’ve been busy working & growing another human & shit like that. It’s all very time-consuming and exhausting. Key word “exhausting.” I do not remember this with Harpie — I remember being bushed towards the end of the day, but with HJ, I wake up exhausted & spend every waking moment on the threshold of narcolepsy. I feel like I need a shot of caffiene & a cattle prod in my ass to get anything done. Licking an envelope is about all I can manage in a days work, so you can pretty much forget about tapping my fingers into coherent sentences via the interwebs.

I mean, even that didn’t even make any sense. Like today when I said that I knew someone in “Canadia.” Cross between Canada & Canadian — genius, or simple placenta head? I’ll let you be the judge of that.

And truly, in some ways…I’m too terrified to write. Between the BFP and the end of my LP (aka when my period was “due”), I lived in a constant state of stress that it was a chemical pregnancy. Life gave me a respite for about a week after that & I was feeling very secure & optimistic. I knew that this was 100% out of my hands. & hell, I’ve already survived a miscarriage, so I know I can handle anything else life & pregnancy decide to throw me. I dusted off What to Expect When You’re Expecting & placed it on my nightstand (again). I bought blankets (again). I started cleaning out Baby Crack (again).

But the terror filled me on Monday, when I was driving home down an empty back highway. I was alone in my car, alone on a highway…and I felt completely alone. Just me & this babe that I cannot protect, no matter how hard I try. I love my baby, and the only thing I can do is eat green vegetables & pray. It is so unsettling & raw.

I am terrified that we will go to the doctor in 2 weeks & have an empty ultrasound. Right now, that is my biggest fear (okay, except being eaten by a velociraptor, but that’s a different story for a later time). When I begin to think of it, my throat closes & I feel like the fear is literally choking me from the inside out. If I go a day with nausea or cramps, I feel like I almost start mourning HJ already, until I shake myself stupid & remember that for now, HJ is sweetly safe. It’s a vicious, torturous cycle of hope & what feels like longing despair.

I have to remember what I always preach to my friends — you cannot shake a “good” pregnancy, & it is near impossible to keep a “bad” one. Self, write that down.