Of Bean and Brain Cells
Dear Bean,
While I felt prepared for the havoc you are/about to wreak on my body, well, nothing can really prepare you for that first pregnancy. And that's the way it should be. I'm good with that. I know you are going to awaken faded stretch marks and turn them purple. I know you are going to relocate my center of balance (which was never that great in the first place). I know that soon enough, my hips will start to prepare for delivery and they will start to ache and my back will start to ache. I know there's a good chance my feet will swell and I will wonder what growing a baby has to do with my thighs getting bigger. I know I have you to thank for the surplus of goat hair on my chin, for the acne flare ups and for constant desire to nap. Of course, I may not feel the need to nap so much if you weren't causing me to get up at least twice in the night to pee.
But that's to be expected. And honestly, little Bean, I don't mind. I wanted you for so long, you can pretty much do whatever. I'm kinda sad that my boobs will never be the same. (P.S. I didn't really need any help in that department... but uhm... thanks anyways, I guess.) I will breastfeed you and endure the saggy boob syndrome until I'm done having your siblings and we're rich enough to hike them up off my knees and staple them to my chest where they belong.
I'm not really complaining about any of these things. How could I? You are my baby. All mine. Well, you are your Daddy's too, I suppose. I haven't even met you yet and I know you will be more than worth it. This is a dream come true. Sometimes I can't help but smile when I'm not feeling good, or tired, or feeling fat, or even in pain... because I know you are in there. You are forming and growing and getting ready to be my own personal answer to years of praying.
So basically, love you lots, little Bean. It'll be interesting to see what you do to me during this pregnancy, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Love, Mom
P.S. Ok. That may be a lie. There is one thing. One little thing. My brain cells. I really don't understand why you being in my tummy is making me dumb, but it is. I start sentences and trail off because I have no idea what I was talking about. I miss things completely. Things go completely over my head. Sometimes I can feel my own brain skipping and reeling and I'm like, "whoa. I. Am. Dumb." And the worst part is, other mother's tell me babies don't even give the brain cells back once they are born. So not nice! I had my blonde moments and laughably idiotic times before... but I definitely do not need "Baby Brain" to make it worse. So if you must use my brain cells for...whatever... could you at least give them back when you are done?
While I felt prepared for the havoc you are/about to wreak on my body, well, nothing can really prepare you for that first pregnancy. And that's the way it should be. I'm good with that. I know you are going to awaken faded stretch marks and turn them purple. I know you are going to relocate my center of balance (which was never that great in the first place). I know that soon enough, my hips will start to prepare for delivery and they will start to ache and my back will start to ache. I know there's a good chance my feet will swell and I will wonder what growing a baby has to do with my thighs getting bigger. I know I have you to thank for the surplus of goat hair on my chin, for the acne flare ups and for constant desire to nap. Of course, I may not feel the need to nap so much if you weren't causing me to get up at least twice in the night to pee.
But that's to be expected. And honestly, little Bean, I don't mind. I wanted you for so long, you can pretty much do whatever. I'm kinda sad that my boobs will never be the same. (P.S. I didn't really need any help in that department... but uhm... thanks anyways, I guess.) I will breastfeed you and endure the saggy boob syndrome until I'm done having your siblings and we're rich enough to hike them up off my knees and staple them to my chest where they belong.
I'm not really complaining about any of these things. How could I? You are my baby. All mine. Well, you are your Daddy's too, I suppose. I haven't even met you yet and I know you will be more than worth it. This is a dream come true. Sometimes I can't help but smile when I'm not feeling good, or tired, or feeling fat, or even in pain... because I know you are in there. You are forming and growing and getting ready to be my own personal answer to years of praying.
So basically, love you lots, little Bean. It'll be interesting to see what you do to me during this pregnancy, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Love, Mom
P.S. Ok. That may be a lie. There is one thing. One little thing. My brain cells. I really don't understand why you being in my tummy is making me dumb, but it is. I start sentences and trail off because I have no idea what I was talking about. I miss things completely. Things go completely over my head. Sometimes I can feel my own brain skipping and reeling and I'm like, "whoa. I. Am. Dumb." And the worst part is, other mother's tell me babies don't even give the brain cells back once they are born. So not nice! I had my blonde moments and laughably idiotic times before... but I definitely do not need "Baby Brain" to make it worse. So if you must use my brain cells for...whatever... could you at least give them back when you are done?
:) This is so sweet. You are so blessed Katie! And, you aren't dumb...I don't know what it is, but Baby Brain...is just part of the package. :)
ReplyDeleteMommy brain is worse than baby brain.
ReplyDeleteAND I always said that I would get my breasts put back where they belonged, but now that I have had my 3 kids and I think about how much it would cost for that type of surgery, I think - really, I could be using that money to go on a holiday, or have fun, or whatever. I just buy REALLY good bras.