Come out, Simon!

Dear Simon,

Where the heck are you? You're two days overdue now and your mother is very uncomfortable. You could have at least written or called to tell us you'd be late so we could prepare. We'd have forgiven the poor handwriting and the amniotic fluid on the note. We'd even have accepted an early arrival, although most people would tell you that showing up early is rude to your hosts. We're not your hosts, we're your parents, and we'd like you here at your earliest convenience. Sooner than that, really.

We've been trying to get Maddie to yell "Come out, Simon!" While she likes to kiss your mother's belly and say "Baby!" Every time we ask her to say, "Come out, Simon!" she says "NO!" Maybe this is all her fault. She did finally consent to yell, "GET OUT!" though, so that's progress. She does seem to very much want to have you here as much as we do, though, so don't let her words fool you.

Your Memere has been a tremendous help to us, and I'm not sure any of us would have survived without her here. You'll learn this soon enough, but your sister can be a bit of a pill sometimes. Your poor mother is struggling just to haul all 400 pounds of you around and still managing to keep the laundry done. (Laundry is horrible, Simon. Pray you never need to do it.) It's hard to keep the place in a constant state of readiness for your arrival at any moment.

Not that things will get any easier once you're here, of course. You probably don't know this, but babies are tough. It's not your fault, you just don't know how to pour yourself a glass of milk yet, so your mother has to feed you. You don't know how to tell us you're hungry, so you have to make the only noise you know how to make and hope we figure it out. We'll teach you all of these things, I promise, but I understand it may take you a couple of weeks to be up and around and taking care of yourself. Being born must be very hard.

All of that said, we can't wait to meet you, Simon. I know these letters have not been as numerous as any of us would have liked, but it's certainly not for lack of loving, and caring, and thinking, and worrying about you. We've loved you since before we could have even imagined your face, and we want more than anything to see it. I'm sure it will be worth the wait. On the other hand, you're going to be sorely disappointed when you learn that the booming voice you've heard through your mother's uterus has your dad's ugly face on it.

The moral of this story is that we currently have some delicious candy, but the longer you take to get here, the less likely there will be any left for you. You better hurry!

Love,

Your Very Impatient Daddy

37 Weeks Pregnant

Dear Simon,

You could be here any minute. Like now!

Or now!

Or now!

Pretty crazy, huh? You have basically no room in there, and you remind me of that all the time with your frantic squirms. Sorry about that. But you're not the only one who's getting uncomfortable! I feel a little like a ninety-year-old elephant. I stomp around with one hand on my back, and my pelvis feels like a basket of broken twigs. I think you're going to be a pretty big guy. Feel free to come anytime after January 3rd. That's when your Memere arrives to help. ANYTIME after that. Like on the 4th, or the 5th... Or the 6th. Or the 7th. Etc.

Christmas is just three days away! And though you won't be able to open them yourself, there are some pretty exciting-looking presents under the tree with your name on them! Maddie has been circling the tree like a little shark, saying "presents!" and trying to grab some of the ribbons and bows through the bars of the gate we put up around the tree. She's having a little bit of trouble understanding that some things belong to you, now. For instance, I bought you a stuffed Winnie the Pooh when I first found out that I was pregnant with you. Maddie spotted him the other day and had a VERY hard time understanding that he wasn't hers. Ditto the very cute blue elephant your daddy bought for you. I think the idea of a baby brother is still abstract to Maddie right now (though she does yell at my belly: "Come out, Simon! Simon, come out!"), but once you are here, she'll understand much better. I know she is just going to be over-the-moon about you, and I think you'll feel the same way about her!

I'm sorry I haven't written in a little bit! I'm trying very hard to get our home ready for you, and to finish revisions on a manuscript before you arrive. And, of course, there were Christmas cards and gift wrapping and trips to the post office and Christmas shopping... It's been quite the month! January will also be quite the month - that's when you'll be born!

Love,
Your Mama

The Awkwardness of the Hedgehog

Dear Simon,

I think it's cute that your mom always starts out her letters by apologizing for not writing more. It's cute because compared to me, she's practically live-blogging this pregnancy. You don't know what live-blogging is, because by the time you read this, people don't blog. They eye-vlog or something with their Google Glass. Actually, there's probably not a Google either. Anyway, that's not the point. I think I promised before both that I would be terrible at keeping up with this *and* that I wouldn't spend all my time apologizing for it. Let's move on to a topic I've been wanting to bring up with you...

You're going to find out about this at some point, so we better just come out and tell you: We used to have a hedgehog. Its name was Pan, and it was a horrible little creature that hated us. We took it back to the pet store when we moved to Rhode Island. ('Rhode Island?!' You're thinking, 'When did you live in Rhode Island? We live in Washington!' At least I hope that's what you're thinking, because if we find ourselves living in Rhode Island again, something has gone horribly awry.) Anyway, back to the hedgehog. I'm telling you about this for several reasons.

First, you would invariably find out about this at a really inopportune time. Maybe we just had a big argument about your grades (Straight A's AGAIN?! We like variety in this family!) or maybe you've just read through these blog posts for the first time and thought to yourself, "Man, I caused my poor mother no end of trouble. All that vomiting. I bet no hedgehog ever caused her that much trouble." It is at these times that you would certainly somehow learn about the hedgehog and spend a lot of time worrying about whether we were going to take YOU back to the pet store for being bad. The answer is no. We love you a lot more than we loved that hedgehog, because it was horrible and you are wonderful, even when we're mad at you. You also aren't covered in spikes. At least I don't think you are. I haven't actually seen you yet outside of a less-than-clear ultrasound shot, but the odds are in your favor here. Not that I wouldn't love you if you were covered with spikes, it would just limit my ability to hug you. But I'd do it anyway. It's also illegal to give your child to a pet shop or circus. Don't ask how I know.

Secondly, it's so when you ask if you can have a hedgehog (or any other horrible animal that people don't generally keep as pets), I can confidently tell you no. Blame your mother for this lesson.

Love,

Dad

31 Weeks!

Hello, Simon!

I'm terrible at keeping up with these entries to you. Sorry about that, peanut, but most of what I do every day revolves around you and your sister, so hopefully you won't feel terribly neglected. For instance, I forgot to post on Halloween and when I was 30 weeks pregnant, but I did wash a bunch of your clothes and blankets, and we've been preparing for you in all sorts of ways. I'm knitting as fast as I can to finish your sister's baby blanket, so that I can start on yours asap. (Your mom is really running behind.) So forgive me, Simon!

As promised, here's Maddie in her second Halloween costume. We went trick-or-treating in Gilman Village, and she had so much fun. I'll take you both next year!

I know what you're thinking. "My sister is so cute!" She really is. And when you arrive, she'll be thinking: "My brother is so cute!" And I just happen to be one very lucky mom, with such cute kids all over the place.

Your Granny Jill visited at the end of October, and your Memere arrived on November 1st. She's leaving tomorrow, which makes me very sad, but she'll be back in January, hopefully long before you arrive. (But not too long. She gets here on January 3rd. Maybe you could try for the 8th? Or the 9th? Honestly, whenever you're ready is fine. But I'd love to not go two weeks past my due date, if that's okay with you.) 

Your daddy and I bought a minivan on Saturday, if you can believe it. Now I'm a mom with a minivan. I really like it! I think Maddie does, too, and I hope you will. It gives us much more space, and it's really nice to have a second car, so that I can take you guys to all sorts of neat places. As soon as I get out of Scary Postpartum Hormoneville, that is. When I had Maddie, I was very lucky in that I didn't have to deal with postpartum depression. However, I did have to deal with a lot of anxiety about driving with my new baby, and about other people touching her, etc. (I even cried every time I took Maddie to the doctor's office for her first couple of months, because I couldn't help worrying about all of the germs in the office.) I imagine I'll be just as hormone-filled this time, too, but I know that it will pass, and I'll be on the road again in no time. 

We're 31 weeks, which means that you're roughly 9 weeks away! How about that! This is what we looked like at 30 weeks:

There is a very big difference in belly size in just the last few weeks! 

Your Memere wants me to say hi for her, and she says: "I love you, and I'll see you in just a few weeks when I'm back in Issaquah!" Just a few weeks! Holy cow!

I love you, Simon. Keep getting chunkier, and prepare yourself for the very wild ride that is labor and delivery. It'll be rough on me, but I bet it'll be much crazier for you, as you're going to be squeezed out like human toothpaste. What a crazy thing!

Love,

Your Mama

Third Trimester!

Hi, Simon!

Today we're in our third trimester. That means you'll be here in 84 days, give or take. Just three months left! You weigh about 2 1/2 pounds right now, and I think you're still head down. (That's good! Stay like that.)

Last week, we traveled for a wedding (and to visit your Auntie Jill and Uncle Luke), and I was pretty exhausted by the time we got home. That's the last of our traveling for a bit, because no one wants a pregnant lady to give birth on an airplane. No one. This week, Maddie and I are recovering, relaxing, and getting ready for a couple of visitors! Your Granny Jill is coming on Friday, and your Memere will be here a week after that! It is going to be a fun and busy couple of months, and then it'll be time for you.

This is the view from our bedroom window this week.

Pretty, isn't it? When you arrive, those colorful leaves will be gone, but the evergreens will still be green. (Hence their name.)

Next week is Halloween, and your sister is very excited about it! We've been reading Halloween stories, and she runs around saying "How-eeen! How-eeen!" She has two costumes this year: the first is Madeline of the Madeline books by Ludwig Bemelmans. She was named after that very Madeline!

I'll show you a picture of her second Halloween costume next week. Trust me - it's cute. It'll be her first year trick-or-treating, and I think she's going to have a blast. (Don't worry - I'll eat plenty of her candy. That counts as her sharing with her brother, right?)

We can't wait to meet you, Simon. We're in the homestretch, now! Almost there. My symptoms at this point include crazy amounts of exhaustion, heartburn (mostly at night), back and hip pain, and peeing my pants way more often than I'd like to. What are you gonna do. 

Love,

Your Mama

What A Week.

Hi, Simon.

Your mama has had a very rough week. I wrote an article that was unintentionally the most controversial thing since Miley's VMA performance (which will hopefully hold no meaning at all by the time you are reading this), and I received a lot of pretty terrible, hurtful responses. It was tough, and I'm seven months pregnant, and boy, have I been in a rough mood for a couple of days. The article was about some of the decisions your dad and I are making as your parents. Now, all parents have a lot of decisions to make. Some of them are harder than others, and all have consequences. For instance, I loved exclusively breastfeeding your sister, and I'll exclusively breastfeed you as well. There are some really great perks to this, like a.) it's free, and b.) I get to spend a lot of very cuddly, close time with my infants. But there are consequences to everything. With EBF, I couldn't leave your sister at all for months. She wouldn't take a bottle, and she ate every two hours for weeks, so I was practically hallucinating, that's how exhausted I was. We also passed thrush back and forth several times, because I was on a steroid inhaler for my asthma, and let me tell you - thrush is painful. Not for her, thank goodness, but for me. Ouch. I would go into detail, but I bet you don't want to hear about your mom's nipples. It was worth it to me, absolutely, but as with every decision, there were consequences.

Anyway, I want you to know that the decisions your dad and I make are made with you in mind. We make these decisions because we believe they're best for you, and for our family. We make these decisions because we love you very, very much. All parents make different decisions for their children, but all of those decisions are made out of love, and made because it's what those parents believe will be best for their children. Your dad and I love our children more than anything in the world, and that will never change. If you're ever having a week like I am, and you're feeling down and a little sad, I hope you will remember that, and I hope you will feel a little better.

Next week, you're going to take a plane ride to Minnesota with us! We're going for a wedding, and will get to stay with your godparents, Jill and Luke. This will be our last trip while I'm pregnant, because in just over a week, I'll be in my third trimester. That means you're going to be here VERY soon! Are you ready for that? I'm ready for that. (I mean, keep baking, obviously, but I'll be ready for you when you're fully baked and ready to come out.) After our trip to Minnesota, your Granny Jill is coming to stay with us, and after your Granny Jill stays with us, your Memere is coming to stay with us! We are going to have a great couple of months, and I will bake a great couple of pies, because that is exactly the time of year it is. Pie time.

I love you, Simon. I hope you know that already, and I will make sure that you know it every day of your life.

Love,
Your Mama

Double Digits!

Hi, Simon!

Today we are exactly 99 days from your due date. That makes it sound awfully close, doesn't it? 99 days! I am 26 weeks pregnant, and we look like this:

Today is a very, very rainy day, and your sister and I are hanging out in our pajamas. I'm sending out more query letters for my chapter book (a process that is kind of like banging my head against a wall for months at a time - but if you are going to be a writer, please don't let that scare you. There are some really lovely parts, like actually writing), and letting Maddie watch Blues Clues on my phone, which she is obsessed with. When she wants to watch it, she follows me around shouting "Clue Clue! Clue Clue!" Sometimes I worry that I shouldn't let her watch Blues Clues, and that we should be climbing a tree somewhere or sewing our own clothing out of organic cotton instead. But it's often raining this time of year in Washington, so all of the trees are wet, and I have no idea how to sew my own clothing out of organic cotton. Blues Clues will have to do. 

I'm tired these days, Simon. Part of it is growing a baby (that's you!), and part of it is Maddie waking up multiple times at night. And then insisting on getting up early in the morning. What's with that? Do toddlers not require a normal amount of sleep? Because while I feel very tired, and need a cup of coffee to function most mornings (don't worry - in moderation, it's fine), Maddie gets no coffee at all, and is wide awake at all times. The first thing she shouted at me early this morning was "Up! Up! Up!" Let me tell you, Simon, "up" is my new least favorite word. I hear it at 2:30am. I hear it at 4:00am. I hear it at 6:30am. I hear it when she's up from her nap. I don't want to be up, Simon. I want to sleep for about a week. But I will settle for a cup of coffee.

Back to the queries and the rain, little Simon. I hope you're cozy in there, and that you're looking forward to meeting us in (approximately) 99 days!

Love,

Your Mama