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hee, hee.
i keep meaning to post pictures of the 30 plus(!!) sewing projects for my little miracle. i am getting there. but every time i get a minute where i am not trying to rest or catch up at work...i am sewing. *sigh*
but pictures are coming. really.
ha,ha. laugh. you know that is funny. and yes i did major in women's studies. (which only means that i wrote and added "masculine hegemony" in class conversations a lot. )
to clarify. of course, i am not all that anti-pink. i have bought a few pink things for the soon to be nipper. pink is just a symbol of the crap we women still face. men too. pink represents the limitations i am terrified will face cate. while we've come along way (in the 1970 less than 10% of law students were women when i graduated, we made up 51%. go us!). i also plan on making her very girly outfits.
what we dress our children in matters. just as much as what we say to them. should it? nope. but it does. people form lasting impressions about people within the first ten seconds of seeing them. as you know, there's a diffrence between hwo we'd like the world to be and how it is.
niobe's comment was right on. the point is, i want cate to play with trucks. if she wants to. and any future sons to wear dresses if they so please.
i want my children to be who they are. without being shaped by limitations. unless that means they are reagen republicans. kidding. sort of.
i am sure that a lot of the angst you may sense in my voice, is the result of of it never occurring to me that i could be an attorney. never. not once. until i was a sophomore in college. because not one person suggested it. no one i knew was an attorney. and female.of course my mom said that "she knew i would be an attorney when i was four"but if that's true-she sure didn't tell me. truth be told, when i was 18, she really wished i would be as successful as my cousins. high school drop houts-but(!) they were married, employed full time in adult jobs, and owned a house. well, a trailer. no kidding.
though, i really should calm down. it's a better world. cate's mo'm is a feminist. if a tomboy (who wears her share of mascara, heels, and pink). and her father is as well. he loves that i make more than him. and doesn't let me get away with playing the gender card.
and k will wrestle with her. lightly of course. just like he does with my nephew, who giggles and signs "more, more!" he is counting the days until he coaches her sport's team. and takes her to brave games.
and why! must we shove gender down everyone's throats? men too?
my goal is for people to ask, what gender my baby is. because why do they need to know? if we let our children (i say this to you all still in the trenches, because while your faith is undoubtedly waning-mine was too not so long ago-and i know you will have little ones throwing up in your hair before you know it. )
so, pink lovers, it's not the color, it's the fvcked up things it makes some people assume.
My name is christina. I am 33, married to k for five years. and we have been together for eleven.
We tried to get pregnant for two years. And we did five times. I miscarried four times. We did two iui's and attempted to do an IVF but my body had the poorest response. Ever. RE told us i likely had crap eggs. We decided to adopt. And began the donor IVF process. And we began to mourn ever having a child that looked or acted or came from either of us. And more of months perhaps years of waiting.
Mourning for me meant months of smoking, crying and drinking. Not very much of either substance. But still. Six months later, I got pregnant. In my bedroom. I am due in September. We are overjoyed.
I sew like crazy. And knit, And take pictures. Most importantly, to me, I blog.
Call me old fashioned, but good grief with all things baby. We finished our registry but not without my having to meticiously pick out things that weren't a big fat exclamation of "YOU'RE A GIRL" slap on little one's head.
Cate will not wear pink everyday of her life. She will not. Did you know studies show that we actually pick up little girls differently than males? While the treatment of women has gotten better, we're still not there. I refuse to remind everyone who comes in contact with my child that she is a girl. To me pink means frail. Weak. Cute.
Don't get me wrong. I love baby girls in pink. In fact, I just ordered this (for $17. on ebay!!) for pictures. Because, hello, is anything cuter?? But it's not for everyday. I don't want her in pink everyday, because I think babies know a lot more than we might think. I don't want her handled with kit gloves everyday. How differently would we pick up this child than a child dressed in overalls and a tank? See?I don't want her to feel that, for lack a better description, vibe everyday. Or even most days.
I don't know about you, but I lived my first years in overalls. My mom, thank-goodness, quickly realized that dresses limited my ability to climb trees and play in the dirt. As soon as I crawled, there were no more dresses, except for pictures, for the reminder of my childhood.
In fact, my mother swears she knew I'd be an attorney after this conversation between u when I was four:
___
(enter four year old me, sweaty, shirtless, through a crakcitedy screen door. mom at sink)
mom: "Chris, you need to put on a shirt."
me: "no!"
mom: "Yes, ladies do not go without shirts"
me: "I'm not a yaydee I'm hot!"
(exit me through crackiedy screen. shirtless. with a huff.letting door slam behind me.)
___
I didn't realize I was a girl until I found myself on a all boys soccer them. (then, the eighties, girls didn't play soccer in the American South. They were in the shade in pink dresses.). The boys treated me much different. Until I kicked too many of them in the shins and scored a winning goal in a very important game. That would be one of the few winning goals. Or goals at all in my many years of soccer. Seriously, I was anything but talented as a soccer player.)
This experience undoubtedly formed my reply to a prosecutor who uttered "bitch" under his breath during a trial. In which I kicked his arse. I replied,audibly, "you're just upset because you're getting beat by a girl."
It makes a difference. This pink business. And why! Are all the clothes for little ones either pink or blue?!?!? It kills me. Sure, there are two outfits in the whole store that are some tacky yellow or green. Clearly token outfits. And I swear they are so ugly to punish those parents who refuse to conform.
You can't be female and say that Hillary's non-conformity hasn't effected her campaign. (Though, that doesn't excuse her thoughtless comment! WTH?)
Watch Cate defy me and demand pink and dresses. Want to be a cheerleader. And become a Phyllis Schlfly.
*sigh*
so, it is decided. little one's name will be Catherine Annalise.
I derived Annalise from Annalisa. Which is Latin for Graced by God's Bounty. Once I read meaning and realized we were living it. That she would be an example of it; I knew immediately.
Grace is an often misused sentiment. It does not mean favored by God. At all. That's just so. So, well, something. Because if God somehow graced us, by giving us Catherine, then he also 'graced' millions of meth and crack heads. As I've screamed and screamed more than once, that's a load of old socks. Would God hand innocent little lives into abusive hands? Of course not.
Dictionary.com defines Grace as a lot of things, but in this instance "the freely given, unmerited favor and love of God; the influence or spirit of God operating in humans to regenerate or strengthen them." I also, don't think it applies just to God. I think" God" can be replaced with the universe. Certainly nonbelievers experience Grace.
The above definitions, in simpler words, mean that somehow K and I randomly benefited from a soft breeze of Grace from God. Or the universe.
And so she shall be called.
What does Grace mean to you?
i hate when you go to the doctor and it turns out that you didn't need to.well, i needed to go. but it was a false alarm. or, rather, 'you're pregnant, moron" alarm.
and i *did* cause contractions! silly, me. i drink lots of water during the day,but i am so tired of getting up at night, that i have stopped drinking water at night. i should have known i had issues when my pee was so yellow that it was almost orange this morning. a positive sign of a lack of water.
i didn't realize what i was having last night was contractions. and we walked around the maternity ward on a tour last night. for two hours. i kept thinking my belly was awfully tight. i ate SEA SALT POTATO CHIPS while on the tour. we ate pepperoni pizza for dinner. salt, anyone?
but i didn't think about it.
and then. then. this morning, i got up super early to get the house ready for painting. we are having three rooms painted. so i had to move all of our personal belongings out of those rooms. including our walk in closet. all of our shoes. we live in a three story house.
anyway, a few other things happened, and they all equal out of control BH contractions.
what weirded me out-was that they never eased. except when i laid down a bit. but they still didn't go away.
"cervix is excellent," "it's long and sealed."
cate is who she is. when i got there, they put me on a heart monitor. this thing that's on a band that stretches over my belly. they put it on and then i pulled the sheet up over me. cate proceeded to kick the monitor. at least once every five minutes or so. you'd hear her racing heart (fetus hearts beat twice as fast as those of adults) and then a thud. and the sheet would rise. so funny. ok, ok. you no likey the heart monitor.
thanks for the support. i even got a voice mail ; ) i am going to take your advice, realize that i am pregnant and just can't do a lot. or much. i like the idea of drinking one glass of wine here and there. according to a voice mail it is very helpful for soothing BHs.
xoxoxo
about cate.
i had a lot of contractions last night. and have been having them ALL morning. i can't time them, because the tightening never goes away. i know, it;s probably normal. i didn't drink enough water last night. and this morning, i got the house ready to be painted.
but still.
i was okay. until i googled her survivability rate. am drinking water and laying down.
please, please, please let me okay.
not so much.
yesterday, i attended one of the first kiddy birthdays since we won the greatest lottery. you know how you steel yourself before birthday parties for kids. especially toddlers? because what you want more than anything in the world is to be having one for your long waited child?
and so when you're there you start to tear up, and so you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. where you sit there. not having to pee. trying not to cry. so you think of happy thoughts. but it's hard. because you want a baby. and you don't have one. so what the heck is so happy in your life? really nothing.
by this time, you've sat there so long that you're afraid people think your doing something that's not very guest like. and taking up a much needed bathroom. after all there are kids around.
so there i was. at his well planned and joyous birthday party. what got to me. what really got to me, was this story teller that they had. she was amazing. she had all toddlers up on their feet dancing and singing. i wanted to join them. ; )
but it made me sad. and quiet and pensive. because i realized that we would be doing the same in a matter of months. achieving what i long thought was unachievable. a joy i would never know. and even worse a joy i could never give my husband.
it hurt. i don't know that it was sadness. maybe. for what we've been through.
but then. but then. i saw the cutest little girl. who was about the age cate will be next year. with brown hair like mine. and hazel eyes like mine. being held by her father. like cate will be next year.
it made me realize how far we've come. how happy we are. how all of you deserve this too. how so many of you are where i was only six months ago. how sad we were. how happy we will be.
and so i fudged a bit. and left thirty minutes earlier than i planned. to give me time to cry in the car. and give my red eyes time to recover. to once again hide an unknowable sadness. or a joy that honestly, no one, who hasn't experienced and then overcome infertility. every pregnancy is a joy. and a miracle. but there is no greater miracle than a pregnancy after you were told there would be no such joy. without thousands of dollars in strange men doing what should have only happened in your bedroom.
i thought that i was over infertility for the most part. the journey honestly seems shorter.
but as i sit here i am teary eyed. and so i know that o am not over it. though we are happy. oh.so happy. and in five years i wonder if i will be so tender on such occasions. i hope not.
and hope is all we ever have, right?
holy cow so much is happening. we are busy making preparations. for cate. we are making tons of progress in acquiring goods, etc. the nursery will be painted next week. as well our master suite. yea!
though we are not making much progress with a middle name! help! i heart suggestions. (if you are in the mood.)
general concerns-her middle name has to be short and begin with a vowel. i am going to add my last name (i kept mine when we got married) as a second middle. only on paperwork. i just don't want anyone to think that i am not her mother.
-catherine sophia (so popular almost to the point of boring)
-caterine isabel. same as above.
-catherine elizabeth-so formal don't ya think? but i love the idea of giving her the family nickname of izzy.
-catherine aila. aila means grace. it's scottish. but i belong to the American Immigration Lawyer Association. weird, no?
-catherine anais is my favorite. k thinks it is pretentious. and reminded me that we are poor children from the south.
ANY ideas are appreciated.
i am a crafting maniac. okay, i am going to post pictures next week. i promise. my current project is a front carrier made out of olivia the pig fabric. i love her. really.
we went out with 'forty year old woman who wants to get pregnant but hasn't gotten referred to an RE in two years' last night. she kept asking about our baby. i tried to only offer enough to not sound like i was holding back. which i was. of course my favorite thing in the world is to talk about c. so, it's hard for me. you know what else is weird? she has something negative to say about every.baby.in.the.neighborhood. such as "their baby's head is so big! and did you see him in that freaky helmet (he has crib head from SIDS prevention )!?!?!" And, "what is up with his little brother? he is waaaayyyy to smaller?!? (he is 9 months younger!). Lastly, "what is up with the Daniel's youngest? he is waaayyy to small. seriously. (he is five months old!?!?!). maybe it's a coping mechanism. but she will not be seeing my baby for a loooonnnngg time. b/.c g-d forbid she say something.
must go sew. i am working part-time today. i need practice right?
so, last night the two couples (the men came too-i LOVE my liberal town) who were kind enough to offer to share their nanny with us came over. which meant they walked across the street.
i have won a second lottery. listen to our now planned childcare-eight weeks of me, k or family keeping her. i will still go back part-time after three weeks at least 3 days in the morning (if i have to (don't throw me in that brier patch!) i will wear her and buy a portable crib for the office. and work a bit when i come home. but then. but then.
i will work 9-1 five days a week. for six months. part time. six months.
-the best of this
six months part time.
k will actually keep her one day a week for the full day most of the time.
she will be kept in my house or the house across the street. she will only rarely be in a car.
the nanny will only be watching one other child.
the nanny teaches them sign language in english and spanish.
we had budgeted for $2,000 a month for childcare costs-for worst case scenario.
we will only pay $500. yep, $500.
this is just so good to be true. you know, for the first time in my life, i've considered playing the lottery, because i clearly have some freakin' good luck. (though i am now increasingly worried that this is just too good to be true.)
