The Gist

Today was sleepy. I even tried turning in around 7pm. It would have worked. It did work for an hour or so. Up until Jesse came in to be adorable, and woke me up in the process. Closing the balcony door to keep the cold out, and leaving a chocolate truffle on my night stand. Kissing me on the cheek and whispering, "I love you."
Two minutes later I was pulling my pajama pants back on and shuffling down stairs for a glass of soy milk to go with my truffle. And for two more truffles.
One truffle, Jesse?
As he saw me come down stairs he got up to meet me at the bottom. Tilting his head to the side and giving a guilty smile.
Taking my sleepy face into the crook of his neck, he hugged me and apologized for waking me up.
"Yes you did."
But it was fine. He followed me back up to the room with Missouri Breaks to pop in the dvd player. After only a few minutes I turned to try and sleep. But really, I only couldn't watch a movie anymore. I looked blankly at the ceiling. Jesse noticed.
"Nothing's wrong."
Except that I don't really feel like myself. Can't think much. Unable to experience the world around me in a present manner.
Jesse rubbed my back in a circular motion.
Tears sprung up in my eyes, and then retreated.
The feeling passed.
We laughed about something.
We said sweet things to each other.

Once again, sleep wouldn't come. So we both came down stairs for second dinner. Jesse made left over spaghetti and a pancake. I made veggie hot dogs wrapped in tortillas.

There's a lot to get upset about.
But there's no reason to get upset.
As we walked this afternoon, we talked about that.
About recognizing that moment when the people or events around you, get so bizarre, that you're only course of action is to completely dismiss them.
Like when one baby felt very serious, and then another appeared, and it all became very funny.
Or when you get blind sighted by someone, and can't figure out why you ever made them perfect to begin with.

This is how I feel:
Sometimes something huge drops down from the sky and lands right in front of you. It's not what some people call a "hurdle".
And it can't be avoided, dodged, or conquered.
The only course of action is to walk your way around it.
It takes a long time. It's inconvenient. It makes you feel like a rollie pollie some kid arbitrarily picked up and set down somewhere else. Beginning your life long trek all over again.
Forget how long it will take you to get there.
Forget how it felt right before everything changed.
None of it matters.
You are where you are.
And where you're trying to get to isn't really anywhere at all.
Start walking.

To whom it may concern.

Hello there!
I see that you've decided to pick my belly as your temporary residence. Welcome! Benvenuti! (as the Italians would say)
I can see that you're getting cozy. Which is to say, I'm looking a little chubby most recently, and sitting just doesn't feel right these days unless I loosen a button.
I know it's too soon, technically. I realize that you're probably a lot more, ehem, gas than babies right now. But I can't resist the urge to do a "pat pat rub" every once in a while. I can't help but smile a little more sweetly. And if someone happens to notice that I'm glowing, well, that's not my fault now is it?
Maybe I'm doing a bit more than my part when I stock breakfast sausage on my plate next to waffles and fried plantains. I'm just pretty sure that you probably enjoy that stuff as much as I do.
And I got plantains.
They're a fruit.
I haven't seen them listed in any of my pregnancy books, but they've gotta have magnesium or something.
And I'm eating the good stuff too.
I guess food is just the first way we have to communicate with each other.
For example, you tell me you don't like nuts.
CHECK.
Apparently you like meat.
Okay.
I could fight you on this, but I'm afraid I'm easily influenced by people I like.
And for some reason I like you a whole lot.
Even though you make it so that I can't poop, but pee every five minutes.
Even though the two of you will make everything that preceded you a vague memory.
So that one day I'll wonder how I ever could have wanted to stay up all night.
I can't help it. I've got feelings.
I could go on pretending you're not there for another few weeks, but I think I'll go ahead and start loving you instead.
But I'm not rushing you. You just keep growing your creepy little fish bodies til they look like human.
And when you're ready; don't be shy. You can visit my rib cage with the heel of your foot as soon as you feel like it.
Until then. We'll just keep on eating, I guess.
Yours Truly,
The warm tissuey nutritive thing that sometimes makes sounds like
swoosh-glom-gurgle, who's altitude pressurization varies according the days of the week.
a.k.a
mom

8 weeks

Tomorrow I find out if it's really, really true.

I guess this is common. A woman not believing she's pregnant til a baby's laid on her chest. I'm only eight weeks along, with hardly any nausea. My only sturdy symptoms are breasts that feel like they've been through surgery, and constipation. I fail to mention that one to Jesse.

For now.

I guess at some point it will all get pretty comical. I'll fart in bed and feel no shame in asking for a third helping.

So these moments, right now, are the last. The last in which we are right here. We didn't get as much new couple time as I had expected. Our relationship marched forward and hardly looked back.

A vague fear grows a little bigger in the back of my conscious. That this can't be right. We're doing something wrong. This isn't how it's done!

But there's no place to position my fear, so is there really cause for alarm?

I'm not afraid about this baby. I know we're going to be great parents, and really, we don't have many aspirations that will be hindered by this. In all truth, this was our aspiration. It was only set off in a more time appropriate distance.

Had I not ended this year with pregnancy fireworks, it would have been one of great change anyway. Something clicked in my head. It took a long time to get there, but once it happened, it was set. I don't find myself very important anymore, and dually value life more than ever. I'm happy to be simple. Be loved and love a few people dearly. And hopefully be listened to at times.

I am listened to.

So I find I don't talk so loud anymore.

When the first test read positive, I told Jesse it was inconclusive. He asked me how a test reads inconclusive. I vaguely referred to multiple windows on the stick. He didn't question it.

I figured I had to have done something wrong and I didn't want him to start reacting yet.

An hour later I took the other test and once again it read positive.

As Jesse folded his clothes back into his bag, we talked about when we should leave Johnny's for JFK.

Here it go's.

I sighed, and for some reason, shamefully, said, "The test is positive."

I still couldn't manage to say, "I'm pregnant."

Jesse quietly moved up to the couch and hugged me. I didn't feel an ounce of insincerity when he said that he was happy. But that hadn't been the source of my shame. I knew Jesse was up for it. I feel so right about him being the one. But me? Can I do it? Just how much will I change?

As the weeks have passed, I've been pretty distracted. Unable to talk very long on the phone. Not telling people means that there's not much left for me to say.

I hate to ignore the phone calls and emails but soon I'll be able to explain myself to Colleen and dad and Andy and Josh.

For now I eat my beans, take my prenatal vitamins, and study passionately, because I can't stop obsessing over what I'll need to do to prepare.

I am scared of having regrets, and realize that I will have them. I am scared that I already don't really feel like teaching my new baby French, as I had always thought I would.

For a week or so after the test, I tried not to talk about it very much. I told Jesse that many pregnancies miscarry and we shouldn't get too involved yet. One night while sitting at the kitchen table, we started discussing the bare bones of it. Two minutes in I was crying unexpectedly.

"I don't know how I'm going to do it with my job. I couldn't leave a baby at home."

Jesse said, "We'll work it out before we get there."

Then he said what will probably stick with me in any moment I feel insecurity.

He said, "Rachel, if we were completely taken care of financially, would you have any other major concerns with this?"

I said, "No. I guess I wouldn't."

A smile grew over his face and he said, "That is so good. If all we have to worry about is money, we are in really good shape."

Today he left for a short camping trip with his dad and brother. I couldn't schedule my doctor's appointments for any other time, but it was very important to me that Jesse didn't cancel his trip as it probably wont come along again.

As I walked into the office this morning, the doctor shook my hand and said congratulations. I giggled a little and said thank you.

He made comments like, "Tomorrow when we do the ultrasound we'll be able to put all your friends teasing about twins to rest."

Tomorrow I will get a little picture of our pinto bean. She'll have eyes and fingers and a big hunking heart.

The doctor said that if at eight weeks, the baby has a heart beat, miscarriage is very unlikely. In other words, I'll have to fully accept that this is the real thing.

7 weeks

I'm looking at the pictures of us in Montreal. While you sit behind me; practicing love songs on your guitar.
Over and over again, you refine and repeat. While I enhance the contrast and color of our photo at the Chinese lantern festival.
It's getting late, but we've been here all day.
Sitting in our lazy clothes.
Dipping into the fridge for pickles and soda.
Happy to be home, and too broke for anything else.
It's October. We're still new. Very new.
Quietly waiting to see; how new our future will be.

It's the last day of 2009. As significant as this year has been; its ending doesn't mean much to me. I can speculate that it only matters when you have regrets. When you feel you're not ready to move forward yet. Sounds like a good enough story, but I think in my case, I just haven't given it much thought.
I worked one day out of the entire month of December. I was home for the holidays. I visited my family and Jesse's family. Tonight I'm to fly out to New York, and I don't want to. I bought my first real maternity pants and I want to wear them out on the town. I want people to see my new belly. In the past two weeks it has gone from chubby to undeniably pregnant. My brain seems to be right on track with my hormones. All I can think about is pregnancy. I dream all day long. As my belly gets bigger, the future gets more real for me.
Yesterday we went in for our 18th week check-up. Jesse met my o.b. for the first time. There wasn't much to do except give us the opportunity to ask questions. The appointment went quickly because Jesse and I are probably overly practical. When he asked us if we had a list of concerns to call off to him, I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Won't all those questions be better answered as I get further along?" I think he didn't register this because he continued his scripted disclaimer that the babies will decide how everything goes.
The only real functionality to our meeting was the doppler which he rolled over my belly to hear the babies' heart beats. I can't articulate what it's like each time we're given more evidence that there are in fact people inside of me.
Not figurative people. Actual people.
I hate that my description stalls at "unbelievable." I'm sure I'll keep reaching for something better, but once again, my brain wanders.
As soon as I look for an analagy of how bizarre this is, my brain computes and the receipt reads:
It's like growing people in your belly.
What was I saying?
Grilled cheese...
I ate it too fast and now I'm having trouble breathing.
These two babies have pushed my stomach up into my lungs and I'm not even five months yet.
Well, tomorrow is a new year and I've got no resolutions.
Pregnancy has safeguarded me from all vices and I don't have to worry about running more or getting a promotion.
I guess that's it 2009.
Planned on writing more in the past five months, but stuff happened.