I have been finding myself wandering back to last year and being completely amazed how much 12 simple months could make. Our lives are nothing compared to what they were this time last Fall.
Life had been so uncomfortable for us during that time, we didn't know which way to turn and everything just felt so uncertain. There were so many unknowns. Now we sit here, the strongest our marriage has been by far, as we build not and not tear down, in our home. Not a 900 square foot apartment but a home, a place to call our own. And we finally feel like we're home, in this frosty place I like to call Antarctica, but it is home.
We've cultivated new friendships and have begun to allow myself to plant some roots as I learn to cut some old ones. I think when I got married, I never quite understood the concept of "Leave and cleave" until recently when I was forced to look around and see the only one still standing by my side was husband, who I finally let become my biggest supporter. It was a rude awakening and one that still causes some pain, but I know it's where I need to be because I strongly believe if my marriage isn't okay, my child won't be okay. I know there has been a friendly debate over at FFG's site about who should come first, the husband or the child and although I didn't chime in over there, I have been putting a lot of thought into it.
Coming from a single parent home, I guess I always felt that I wanted to give my kids something I never had in life: A Mom and Dad who actually love and respect each other. I wanted to show them what a loving marriage looked like. I want my kids to know that I do put their Dad above them because if he and I are okay? Then they're okay because they have stability staring right at them.
Right now, I feel at peace. I have a wonderful husband, a new little girl kicking inside of me, and the opportunity to wake up to this adorable face every day.
I had a dream before I knew I was pregnant. I dreamt that I had just given birth to a 10lb baby. D and I commented how the baby looked just like Camille but with less hair. Somehow the dream fast forwarded to a month later and I was at my Mom's nursing the baby and next commented how great it was to have given birth without any complications this time.
Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I was nervous and scared and anxious that I would loose this pregnancy, this wonderful surprising pregnancy but I clung to that dream and believed with all my heart that God has sent it to me to give me peace of mind. To tell me that this was His plan. That this baby was going to be just fine.
I have clung to that dream for the past 20 weeks.
But yesterday I needed that baby to be the gender it was in my dream. I needed it to keep a hold of the hope that was alive inside of me.
I don't remember being so nervous with Camille's big ultrasound. I do remember being excited and full of anticipation. But yesterday I was nervous. No matter what this baby was, I would love it beyond description but I wanted this dream to have been prophetic. You might not be able to understand that, but my Mom does, and sometimes that's all you need. I could see my heartbeats on the ultrasound screen and I knew I had to calm down, but I just needed to know, now.
As the technician was taking my measurements, just moments after telling me she couldn't confirm the baby's gender just yet, she slipped. She said her and my heart almost jumped out of my body. I knew that she knew that I heard, the look on her face confirmed that. But that was okay with me because just a few minutes later, after the baby's bladder became full, she finally made it official:
My Rosemary, there she was and there was my dream, alive and well.
It's not like I intentionally don't tell you people things. It just happens; time starts slipping way, updating moves further and further down the proverbial, ongoing "to-do" list and the next thing I know I feel like I'm withholding vital information from you. I was all "Hey look, I'm pregnant" and then I disappear like in the good ole days when Mom's would send their daughters away for 9 months and then they would magically reappear. And then there's that other little child of mine that has almost been forgotten about here and you all start to wonder if I am staying at home to care for the cat and just the cat.
I have a great excuse though:
Our computer is fried. So fried that even our brilliant computer tech friend couldn't get it to work, and if he can't fix it, ain't no one can fix it. A new thingy mabobby will cost over $100 so D contemplates whether we should spend the $100 on that or save it for doing other things, like possibly putting a floor down in the basement, we are frivolous. In the meantime, while he hums and haaaas we are sharing the laptop, my laptop, or the laptop that was D's until I busted mine and then immediately put claim on his. It's mine. But we're sharing it and it's been good for us because I actually see my husband in the evenings after the child goes to sleep. I'd prefer for the desktop to not ever get fixed but I know it will have to because there is only so much of sports one female should be expected to watch.
But, my withholding, oh my, it's good.
Let's start with the eldest child:
Two or so weeks ago (I know, I know, this should've been posted that long ago) D and I sat one Saturday afternoon during Camille's nap discussing the dilemna that was the crib. Do we buy a new one for Camille? Do we put the old one in her new room and just keep Bean in the Pack n' Play? Oh the choices that needed to be made that actually, about on hour later was being made for us. D went in to release Camille from nap and found her with one leg in and one leg out. For the next 24 hours this how we would find her each and everytime she had been put into her crib. So, that was that. A toddler bed came up on Craigslist, we snatched it and it's been smooth sailing ever since.
See, Camille has fought be on every single developmental milestone she was to reach. Tummy time? Screamed through it. Bottles to cups? Refused. Formula to Milk? Didn't drink for days. Walking? Not for her. You can see how I was not looking forward to this one. Apparently Camille felt bad for me and cut me a break because she LOVES her bed and she HATES the threat of toys* being taken out of her room if she gets out of bed, especially when I follow through and actually remove them for a day. So it's been good and she is darndest cutest girl out there, hands down.
Secondly, and this post is way longer than I had planned:
We got the BIG ultrasound yesterday and I might possibly know what I'm having but I'll post that later** today because, really, is anyone still reading?
*by toys, I mean a basket of hats and a basket of shoes ** simmer down, the post has already been written so all I'll is sit down later on and click "Publish" only after I feel like I have your attention
