Saturday, August 21, 2010

joy of the father

I'm so filled with emotion these days that it's hard to know where to begin to describe it all.

We are having a little girl.

Just days ago, when this information was given to us, the concept seemed so foreign to me. All along - throughout the beginning of my pregnancy, throughout my life, it seems - i always assumed i'd be having a boy. First, i mean. I always wanted a girl, but kind of daydreamed that the boy would come first.

But God, as usual, would have other plans.

Our ultrasound technician is wonderful. She didn't tell us right away what the sex of the baby was. Instead, she simply asked if we wanted to know, inquired about the names we'd picked out for either gender, and then began to take measurements of the baby, starting with the head. With every measurement she would explain to us what we were looking at. Most of it was obvious...her arms, her little fingers...and all of it was perfect and more adorable than i'd imagined. Nothing, however, compared to seeing that little heart beating, each of the four chambers entirely visible and in working order. There was a life growing inside of me, and i was watching it. And nothing else in the whole world mattered.

"It's an Abby!"

The declaration awoke me from my stupor. The technician had been pushing hard on my belly with her instrument, trying to get the baby to move so we could get a view from under her bum - where, of course, i was expecting to see some little boy parts.

They were girl parts. No doubt about it.

Jeremy and i exchanged astonished glances. Really? We were having a girl?

But of course. Her face looked more like mine now, her movements more feminine. She was cross-legged, the way i sit indian-style most everywhere. And as soon as we saw her defining girl parts, she seemed to become shy and settled in for a little nap.

I rolled onto one side, then the other, in order to allow the technician to take more measurements - beautiful legs, tiny toes - but it wasn't easy. Little Abby was asleep.

I remember tearing up in the waiting room as we prepared to see our midwife, the realization that we were having a daughter striking me for real for the first time. They were joyful tears, mind you. I was going to have a little mini me, only a much better version. A tiny, pink, innocent, helpless version.

Still, it took a couple of days to get used to the idea. I was prepared for a boy, and especially knowing the sex of the child, our concerns had been somewhat minimal. How would i afford maternity leave? We'd cross that bridge when we got there. What kind of parents would we be? If it was a boy, Jeremy would teach him how to swim and fish and play baseball. Where would we fir him or her in the house? Any old corner would do; after all, babies don't take up that much space.

When we found out we were having a girl, all of this changed. I panicked about maternity leave; i work at Starbucks and can barely afford my bills. I panicked about being a good mother; suddenly i felt all this pressure to be crafty and womanly and enjoy shopping. And i panicked about where we'd put the baby's crib and rock her to sleep.

But with each day that passed, i've grown more and more excited about having a little girl, and all of these problems seem to be melting away. Though i don't have insurance through Starbucks, i found out that i still qualify for short-term disability, which will alleviate some of the financial stress that comes with taking time off from work. I may not enjoy shopping very much, but i can't wait to read my favorite children's books to my daughter, teach her how to comb the beach for sea glass, and lick the spoons with her after we've selected the perfect pumpkin for pumpkin pie. As for where she'll sleep? A plan to transform the sunroom into a tranquil nest for her has been weaving itself together in my mind.

I feel her presence more each day. Her little fingers and toes that graze my belly. The way i get emotional just holding a pink onesie. The fact that her name was chosen long before she was even conceived.

My beautiful Abigail Grace.


Post a Comment


My name is Audrey. I'm just a twentysomething learning how to master the arts of cooking, cleaning, working and being in a relationship, same as you.In between all that, I like to collect sea glass and salvaged furniture. Occasionally, I cut and paste scraps of paper together. In the end, I am hoping that all of these things together will somehow amount to something good. This blog is a journal of my efforts to get there.


thesalvagedbride at gmail dot com