We stand at intersection. Black suit universal pause, here at Bay and King. She’s staring up at you. Boulder eyes, size of the moon. Seeking face. Your upwards morning mouth, silent words: ‘Yes child, I see you. The world is good.’

Ignore me, I don’t care, but turn your gaze on these innocent eyes because they won’t remain forever so.

Your face is an orbit. Pursed lips, supple skin. Bright eyes, like moons. A constellation.

You are a little ship, a face like an ocean cresting. Raven hair and blue eyes the size of boulders. 

I swim in your sea from day’s break to day’s end. You are my life’s greatest treasure. Lying beside you these first days has felt like a rebirth. Your soul, your face, every inch of you speaks pure. Your loveliness outshines the rainbow that nestled itself outside our window yesterday. I would spend the rest of my days gazing at your face if the world, the Lord, would allow. Instead I will take my moments, store them in my heart like gold, and watch you grow, grow, grow up into heaven, out into the world.

We welcomed Madeleine Jacoba Hope on September 2 at 9:15 AM.

9 lbs 11 oz. 72 hours of labour. Mom and baby are happy and healthy. Daddy says: “God help fathers of daughters.”

We are in love.

So, when do you think our bundle of joy is coming? Will it be a boy or a girl? And how much will s/he weigh? Post your predictions!

Date:
Gender:
Weight: 

Whoever is closest will win a prize! I am going to think of something exciting to mail you in the meantime… (Hint: the due date is August 27, though it changed once to the 19th, after a 20-week ultrasound.)

Let the guessing begin!

Image from Life in Motion Photography

My dear friend and doula, Avital, sent me a link to the most beautiful birth video I’ve ever seen. It’s a montage of black and white photos chronicling a home birth, and the most convincing ‘literature’ I’ve come across to encourage natural birth.

I encourage you to watch it.  

:::::::::::::

Expect the next installment of Expecting: Poetry Monday morning.

Here are a few recent shots: 

At the salon (looking a little tired)

At home (my tank tops naturally make their way up like that, there’s no keeping them over the bump anymore) 

The tummy dip is rounding out nicely. It just took a bit of patience (something I’m learning a lot about these days — patience tying/trying to reach my shoes, patience remembering things, etc, etc.) Only about 8 weeks to go!

So, I splurged.

Yesterday we celebrated Father’s Day with a visit to my dad and stepdad, but before stepping out of the house my husband got to experience his very first father’s day:

Eggs Benny. Homemade Hollandaise. Fruit Salad. Bacon. Fresh coffee. A letterpress card.

And tickets! to see Death Cab at the Coliseum next month. Woohoo!

I read this interesting article about how to bond with your preborn baby over the weekend. Apparently baby will be rocking out at the concert with us!

“Concert-going mothers report their preborn babies jump at the sudden sound of drums. In fact, from at least the 23rd week on, a preborn baby’s hearing is developed enough to enable him to respond to outside noise… Even the five-month-old fetus has been found to have discriminating musical ears.”  - From 7 Ways to Bond with your Preborn Baby 

And now Michael is off to Toronto for a week of work. Darling, I miss you already.

At Jen’s request, I’m sharing another pregnancy poem. Much less funny but just as honest, I hope:

You, my child.

My darling child,
your hands, as webs,
reach out to touch my insides.
“Mommy, I am here.”
You knit my womb and heart
together with strings.
Your smile already my companion.

My angel,
you speak to me through your
rumblings,
coursing blood, water, tears
out from my fingertips.
I imagine your steps,
giant, small
and wonder at your nature.

I crawl, small, into my Father’s hands,
whispering thanks,
gasping for all the Love
in the world there is to give,
because you deserve it
my darling.

I imagine your face wrinkled, calm.
swimming through your
childhood, already begun.
I marvel at your daring heart,
already,
wishing nothing but hope and
promise and life -
lovely things, lovely things
for you.

You wake now, with passion
stirring like earth quakes,
as I pray.
your voice calling out
“amens”.
I can hear you saying your
yeses. saying yes to the world.

“Yes world, I am coming.”
 
i love you.  
- mama

The innie remains an innie (so far) although I am encountering depths of my belly button I’ve never seen before, my feet are swollen beyond belief, and I officially stopped wearing my wedding band as of yesterday when my mother-in-law had to wrench the piece of metal over my knuckle with dish soap and a lever made of dental floss. 

On the pregnancy note, I bring you this poem (of sorts) written in month three:

I am eating convulsively, though I find it repulsive.
It’s all I can do to sleep.
My boobs keep growing
and my nipples are SO sensitive
I scream in the shower
cowering in the corner –
hiding my chest away from
the faucet.

Yes. I am pregnant.

Today I enjoyed this word from Katrina Onstad on throwing out the plan, the birth plan, that is. 

“Modern times, don’t be so pushy,” Chatelaine, August 2008

Our birth plan in progress. We are planning to have our baby at home. We are planning to have a birth pool (I find water incredibly calming.) We have two backup hospitals. We have a group of midwives, one of which will be at our birth. I have a wonderful doula. We started prenatal classes last night. I’m taking yoga classes.

But really, when the water breaks, it’s anyone’s game.

This pregnancy thing is really one giant exercise in trust.

The baby is kicking his/her agreement as I type… ;)