A Letter to Our Son

Dearest Son,

Well, it's ending just as it began.

We started out dreaming of you by counting the minutes, hours, days, and weeks until we knew for sure you were within me. When will I ovulate? When is the right moment to inseminate? We could barely manage allowing twelve days to pass before I could take a pregnancy test and hope to find news of your wee presence. Every day, I mentally marked one more day down until we could hear your miraculous heartbeat for the first time. I waited in fear, because I lost a baby before you and I couldn't imagine losing you, too. Every day I begged. "Please let this baby stay. Please let this baby become part of our family."

It seemed an eternity; it seemed to be the flap of the bird's wing. It soon was time to see you on ultrasound, to learn that you are a boy and that we are having a son and your sister is getting a brother. Maybe it's silly or repetitive to specify each of those things - but they were all three different realizations.

Halloween passed us by, Thanksgiving came and went, then Christmas and New Year's took their turns. Each holiday, we marveled at how fast you were growing, how quickly you'd be joining us. I wondered what your first Halloween costume would be, what you would think of your first Thanksgiving dinner, and what kind of trouble you'd get into at Christmas as a ten month old just learning the joys of pulling ornaments off our Christmas tree. Today I'm thinking about how all that's left between now and your arrival is Valentine's Day, and how I can't wait to take photos of you wearing the same cherub wings I made for your big sister when she was a baby.

We've had a lot going on these last couple weeks, so don't worry if our lives all seem extra crazy when you arrive, dear one. Our home has been sold, and we've bought a new one. We're all waiting to see if you decide to come before or after we've moved! It's up to you, of course. Mom is working hard to take care of us all, and I often feel guilty that I can't be of more help to her. In case you should ever wonder - she really is Superwoman. She's got it handled, but it's an unfair load for her to carry. Hopefully it won't last much longer.

I am 37 weeks and 3 days pregnant with you now, and that means technically you could arrive at any time and be considered "full term".

And so we're back, counting down the weeks and days and hours and minutes we have left as a family of 3, before your birth changes everything.

Dearest son, we are so excited to meet you and welcome you into this amazing, wonderful, zany family we've got. You are so loved.

<3, Mama

Wherever is your heart, I call home

Today is a Brandi Carlile kind of day. In general, I'm pretty desensitized to famous people, it comes with my job.  I need to be professional when working with artists and I do my best to make them feel comfortable at my theater.  It's probably a good thing Brandi Carlile has never performed at my theater, because I would go total fan-girl. I don't even know what I would say, so I'm sure I would make a complete fool of myself.

I have never found an album that I connect emotionally with as much as "The Firewatcher's Daughter." (buy it here, you won't be disappointed!) So, as I sit at home feeling overwhelmed with the monumental changes the next 5 weeks hold for my family, I am listening and singing along.

We (somewhat on a whim) put our house on the market a few months earlier than we had planned.  We figured there was just enough time to sell our house and buy another before the baby is born. Well, we were almost right. It's been 2 weeks since our house went on the market and we have a contract on ours and our offer was accepted yesterday for our new house.  Unfortunately, our closing dates are the week AFTER the due date, so we will not have a house for a day or two and we will either have a newborn or A will be 41 weeks pregnant. 

I have a plan. It involves diagrams, color coding, a storage unit, stagehands, grandparents, hotel rooms, and a moving truck. I think I can pull this off. As long as A doesn't go into labor while I'm packing the truck, we'll be okay. But it still wakes me up in the middle of the night.  I still feel panic that I need to be doing something, but there's so much to do that I can't find the starting point. I revise what I said: I have a plan for the week of the move, but the next 4 include only one thing: pack. Way too vague. 

So as I try to center myself and find my way, I give myself one more minute to feel overwhelmed as I stare down the next road of our lives.  And I sing along--


"There's a road that's long and winding, it hollers home, I'm calling home"