Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Watermelon Week

Inspirational song: Maybe Baby (Buddy Holly)

Hang on a minute. You know how March took forever to end and April flew by? It really just hit home to me that May starts this week! I mean, the time when our world suddenly changes for the better is almost upon us! The estimated due date for The Littlest Smith is two weeks from today. It means that we are really at Go as of now. Any time between now and three weeks from now, we could be getting a message from the hospital that the fun has begun. The first guess on the big baby pool calendar I drew up is for this upcoming Sunday. Then, there are 3 guesses on the 5th, a week from today. My pool bet is for the 11th. Honestly, as long as Littlest Smith waits until Friday or after, I will be fine if I lose the pool. Fully formed lungs are my only consideration. The rest are just fun guesses.

Since about Halloween, I've been frequently consulting a chart I found on Pinterest, that compares fetus size to foods, and telling my daughter where we were on the progression of foods. I think baby was the size of a raspberry or grape when we found out about them. Now that we are so close, I checked the chart, and let her know that yesterday closed out pumpkin week, and watermelon week started today. If we make it past next Tuesday, we will close out this time line on jackfruit week. Thank goodness they don't come out weighing as much as a big old watermelon, though. They're more like lifting a stray cat, deceptively light.

I remember clearly the first time I washed and sorted newborn clothes in anticipation of starting my own family. I was amazed at how tiny they actually are. Just holding up those little socks and onesies releases some of those same brain chemicals in me now. So many feelings, holy cow. I helped sort and fold today, and I'm still awash in the feel-good chemicals. At one point I held up a size 2T pair of footie pajamas. I told my daughter that while I was pregnant with her sister, my grandmother's younger sister gave me an 18-month size pajamas, and I looked at them in relation to all those newborn clothes, and thought no way. This kid will never be that big. I'm having a baby, not an adult. I remember fighting back tears that she would ever get that big. (Have I mentioned before that until I had my own children, I'd never really spent time around babies? This memory should serve as proof of that.)

I had planned on taking it upon myself to pay attention to my daughter during labor, not on the actual birth process or machines or whatever. I was going to be the one watching her face. We had planned on having a collection of people helping her labor, just like I had with her. (In fact, she had invited her godmother to attend, just as she had for my daughter's own birth.) I said my job was going to be to watch for the slightest change in her expression or mood, so that all she had to do was make eye contact with me, and I would clear the room of everyone except my son in law. But since we won't be allowed to attend the labor and delivery, now I just get to sit at home and stress about what's happening after she gets sick of being on a video chat and shuts it down. I really wanted to be a part of it all, but 2020 had other plans for all of us. As long as I am able to see that baby while they are still reasonably fresh, I guess I will allow it.


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