Yup, that’s about right.
My dear friend Ana* had a baby on the 27th of last month. As is typical of new moms, she went MIA from Facebook and most other social media for a few days after the birth. When she resurfaced to share news and pics of her new addition, catch up on emails, inquiries, and well-wishes, she made sure to send me a note bidding me good luck with my own impending arrival, and to outline the harrowing experience that was her (unexpected) C-section (gee, thanks). She ended the note with “sleep now! You won’t get any once the baby comes!! xo”
Now, Ana is not the EATBR that I mentioned earlier this week, but her last sentence caused a searing-hot rage to bubble forth within me, and I fought an overwhelming urge to write back with a curt, “Go f*ck yourself!”
There but for the grace of God, and the love and affection I have for her likely saved her life. Here’s why:
I’ve been a bit incognegro these last few days. I had a rather big writing assignment to complete, as well as a few engagements, and then there was my un-shower…so I had good reason for not blogging. Or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself. And you.
first things first…
Last Friday marked 34 weeks. My little peanut is actually the size of a honeydew melon (finally, produce that I enjoy eating!) and will prolly remain about that size for the next two weeks or so. She has been transverse breech for the majority of this pregnancy, but lately has taken to basically standing upright (footling breech) in the womb, feet kicking my bladder. Fun.
high tea at the Windsor Arms…
What more can I say? It was High Tea. At the Windsor Arms. And it was lovely. We wore fascinators. And took pics. We looked great! We had canapés and mini-sandwiches, and quiches with fancy stuff in’em. The scones were OFF THE CHARTS (though I really could have done without the desserts. They were only “meh.”) My girls surprised me with a little mom-to-be evening out, including a GC for a mani and pedi. Aw. I’m not a spa-girl, but I will haul my heavy backside out to Bayview Village and get my F&Ts done.
The fabulous five and their four fascinators.
Were it not for Google doodles, I’d be pretty uninformed.
Apparently, Children’s Day was proclaimed by the UN General Assembly in 1954. A globally recognized day, its goal is to promote the welfare of the world’s children – especially those living in poor conditions, or those who have suffered violence, discrimination and exploitation.
It’s fitting, I suppose, as today is also the day that one of my dear friends undergoes her second IVF harvesting. Round one was successful, and the result is an adorable, tiny yet feisty almost-two-year-old by the name of Naomi.
I am praying that the second round is successful. And that the result is a boy-baby. There’s too much estrogen happening among my friends and family (more than 10 little girls in the past two years, compared to a measly three boys). We are in dire need of some penis to make things a little more interesting – and a lot less pink – around here.
My clothes can’t keep a secret.
We told the boy’s family yesterday. He’s going for hernia surgery on Monday, so he thought it’d be a good idea to get the fam together and announce the news of the pregnancy and see everyone before he went under the knife. Again, my choice of loose attire gave me away – who knew I was such a fangirl for tight clothing ? – his niece Christina sensed that I was about to drop the baby bomb after spying my blue dress. The news went over well, anyway. His mother congratulated us, claimed she already knew, and then was upset because we hadn’t told her before…her baby boy is having a baby. She was hurt. So emotional, that one. Sweet lady, though.
After the family reveal, I headed to Brampton to see my dear friend Radmila and her husband. They’re like family to me, and they were having their annual summer shindig on the same night as the boy’s family do. I’d originally said I wasn’t going to make it, but seeing that my afternoon ended early, and I had news to share, I hopped in the car and headed north.
As I pulled up, I could hear the music blaring. I opened the door unannounced and made my way to the kitchen, where I knew all of the wives and womenfolk would be congregated. Radmila and her friend Karla spotted me at the same time. Karla’s mouth dropped open, and Radmila said, “so, do you have something to tell us?” I spent the night sharing the news with various guests I haven’t seen in a while. I was truly warmed by all of the congratulations. Continue reading
And toes. And eyes. And legs…Oops. Guess it’s a bit late for that last one, innit?
Even though I’m coming up to the 12-week mark, the boy and I have decided that I’m not going to be making a formal/public announcement about our impending bean on any social media platform – although he has
allowed agreed to letting me blog about it. He thinks it’s a good way for me to chronicle this pregnancy and work out any feelings/issues I may have through my writing.
We still haven’t told his family (we will this coming weekend), and I’ve been telling people as I see them. I had lunch with my friend Alex today, and she was super-excited (and surprised) when I showed up with a little extra cargo. Tomorrow I’m meeting with my friend Naki, and I guess she’ll learn then, too.
It’s not that I’m not at all excited myself, it’s just…I dunno. I feel all right, and I want to believe that everything is all right, but I really hope this little one is okay. I worry (Advanced Maternal Age and all, don’tcha know) that it won’t. I see Dr. Freedman this Friday, and while I don’t have any questions for her per se, I’ve no doubt that a visit with her will help put my mind at ease.
Just what the doctor ordered, as they say.
The weather this weekend was gorgeous; the image illustrates my mood.
a big turnout…
Saturday was Donte’s funeral. It was a massive turnout. Everyone was there. I t was supposed to start at 10; I got there early and could barely find a place to sit. By the time the service started, it was standing-room only. People were still coming after it began, and they were forced to stand outside. It was a beautiful service and a beautiful day. It was both the loveliest and saddest thing I’ve ever been to in my life. Short sentences. What more can I say?
…and a belly to match
I thought I was slick wearing a loose, blousy top to disguise the pregnancy. Black is supposed to be slimming, right? Boy, was I wrong. All weekend my big belly was big news. Continue reading
Can you believe this is a doll? This is “Aisha,” 🙂 by artist Gudrun Legler. See more of her work here.
The other day, the boy and I were chilling out front with my father when my neighbour’s son rolled through the ‘hood, wife and baby girl in tow. Greg and Jeanne are an interracial couple as well, but the inverse of the boy and I. Greg is black and she’s white. Their daughter, Arianna, is such a sweet pumpkin. I immediately grabbed her, and Jeanne seemed to be happy to have her hands free for a bit.
The boy recently had a dream that we’d had a baby girl, and as I cooed and fussed over five-month-old Arianna, I could feel him watching me. I walked over to where he was sitting. “Was our dream-baby as cute as this one?” I asked quietly, bouncing her in my arms. He smiled at her giggles.
“Hell yeah,” he replied. “Cuter, even.”
“Huh,” I said. I made the “not bad” face.