Hi! Welcome to the first of many bloggy-type letters that may or may not be written to you as you develop and grow. I’m sure at some point these will either collectively (a) make you feel really good or (b) embarrass the ever-loving shit out of you. Either way, I’m the mom and this is what I get to do.
You’re a fetus right now. I think your eyes are making their way closer together and you’re busy flailing and swimming around in La Uterus. At least that’s what the Internet said you’re doing right now. Me? I’m trying to figure out what and how to eat. (It’s been something of a challenge thankyouverymuch. We’ll discuss your punishment when you’re older.)
I have to tell you, that although I know you’re “in there”, I’m having a little trouble jumping into the whole “my baby” mindset. It’s nothing you did, I assure you. You swam and waved almost on cue during your last ultrasound – and that made your Dad and I smile really big. Really big.
But, you see, I have to have a scary test done next month called an amniocentesis. The doctor will go in to where you are currently enjoying your swim and grab some stuff to take a look at and then tell us whether, well, you’re okay. And while I know you probably are okay, there’s another part of me that realizes there’s a possibility that you might not be. And that alone is enough to take the air out of my lungs (which is already a challenge).
So, I guess I need to ask for your patience and possibly your forgiveness. I do love you, but it’s with some reserve. I’ve had to exercise that reserve for my own sanity — in case, G-d forbid, there is a terrible decision to be made. Or one has been made for us. But I know that after this scientific hurdle is crossed, the flood gates will open and your Dad and I will love you with great abandon. And, trust me, your Dad’s Abandon is a site to behold. Just ask The Swimmy.
And really? I could use a little Abandon right now.
So, take care and enjoy the ride in there. We’ll be seeing you again in a few weeks. And, if you could swing it, I’d really like to enjoy some good food again soon. So, I’ll make a deal with you – we’ll start small — I won’t make you eat peas or brussel sprouts, and you, say, let chicken salad taste good again.
That’s fair, right? I think so.