Imagineering

"Would you like to know?" the ultrasound tech asked.
"Yes!"
"Okay, then – we'll see if baby cooperates."
With that, she engaged the ultrasound wand (infantem revelare!), and we got a beautifully-framed shot of baby's demurely crossed legs. Hoping this is not a portent of future cooperation.

Anyway, Newbie warmed up to the three of us over the course of the standard examination. (What are all those measurements for, anyway?  Somewhere a tailor is on the verge of a million dollar idea.) We got a little wave hello, some impressive feats/feets of contortion, and – after a bathroom break and threat of resorting to the chicken dance – our little girl relaxed enough to answer the question of the day.

(In case you missed it, Newbie is a girl! Kinda snuck that one in there, I guess.)

Since our follow-up check-up had been rescheduled, we even had enough time to bust out the 3D wand (tres infantes revelare?!) which we'd tried too late with Walter to get good results. Newbie, I'd like to promise you right now that I will always love you with my whole heart, even if you really are the spray-tan orange lump of silly putty that we saw that day.  Actually, we got fairly clear results, according to the imaging tech; the picture here is a slightly overhead shot of the Newbie's forehead, eyes, and nose, with either a hand or foot in the foreground.  This was more obvious in the live footage. So, be warned and reassured, all who are expecting or who expect to be expecting, those perfect 3D-printable baby images in your birthing center's advertisements will
probably not be your experience. Nonetheless, what fun to peek in on her like that! She seemed closer, somehow. More like a live feed from the womb than that first transmission from a distant planet feeling of a traditional ultrasound. Still, those more traditional black and white frames, particularly the silhouettes, revealed Newbie is shaping up to be a beautiful little baby, already looking very much like her mother.

There's a certain serendipitous resonance to the ultrasound experience that the best Disney Imagineers couldn't have designed. Huddled together in a cramped, dark room, subconsciously aware of the life buzzing around just outside, trying to discern an inconceivable other universe through a smattering of muffled noises and flickering lights. And suddenly, you're all there together, in communion.

Of course, for the mother, it involves a stranger applying intense pressure to your full bladder, among other, less comfortable maneuvers. So, not exactly EPCOT.

After wrapping up, we asked our tech to point us in the direction of the nearest Dairy Queen (will this become the post check-up tradition for our little summer baby?) and Mama shared a delicious blizzard with her beautiful daughter on the road home.

Every time he does this, it completely makes my day

Walter: "pbbbbbbbbttttt." (pause) "Camel."

More than enough

Walter's new absolute favorite song is "Dayenu," a Passover song which means "It would have been enough" in Hebrew.  There are verses, but Sean and I only know the chorus, which is pretty catchy. "Day-day-enu, day-day-enu, day-day-enu, dayEnu, dayenU! (Dayenu.)" Walter loved it from the first moment he heard it and now requests it often and sings along: "Nanu! Nanuuuu!"

At his request, we sang it to him tonight as a lullaby, and he kept asking for us to sing it again. "Nanu! More!"

At first I thought it was kind of funny, to never be able to get enough of the "it would have been enough" song.  But it actually shows a fairly deep theological understanding on Walter's part.  The song is about how God delivers God's people, again and again.  It would have been enough if God had just done it once, but God keeps going, giving more and more and more.  God gives and loves abundantly; God is more than enough.

Also, it is a really fun word to say.

A/B Testing

We do our best to keep to the "no screen time before age 2" rule, barring skype, but we make exceptions when Walter is sick, or when Mommy or Dadda is sick (or just exhausted.)  Mostly Henson-related with some other stuff thrown in as we discover it or recall it.  While Walter used to be content to just judge these videos as we presented them to him, lately he's been making requests, in particular the "ABs" or alphabet videos.  We've been diving deep into the Sesame archives, and turned up some real classics like ABCD-Cookie-Monster.  CTW/Sesame Workshop have a surprisingly diverse catalog of original alphabet tunes that manage to be catchy without distracting from the actual ABs – cool stuff like Kermit's African ABs with Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

Walter's not impressed by such novelty.  When Kermit (or Mhermie, as Walter pronounces it) starts, "Amazing!  Beautiful creatures dancing..." Walter supplies his own take on Bohemian Rhapsody.  "No, no, no, no, no, no, no."  Sometimes upset, but usually measured, resolute.  This boy is on a mission; canonical ABs only, please.  No extraneous lyrics.  Preferably sung by lovely young women.  Actually, that might be Walter's real mission.  India.Arie inspires a certain blissful look in his eyes, and he's granted Tilly and the Wall concessions unavailable to, say, Daddy or Richard Prior.

To what end all this ABing?  Well, he doesn't join in singing with us or the videos, but he gets this shy little smile that suggests he's biding his time until he can let it rip from start to finish.  Last night, in a fit of ecstatic bathing, he managed to recite the whole thing: ABABABBBBBBB-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh!  He even transcribed it with bath crayons, so we know he's serious about it.

If you haven't already heard, we've been getting so much mileage out of the sick/exhausted loophole because we've got another baby on the way!  Little Newbie is scheduled to arrive on August 30th, although I'm guessing that's just penciled in.  We're absolutely thrilled, but well into the second trimester, Walter's perennial ear troubles (currently experiencing a reprieve!) are joined by what seems to be worse morning sickness for Annie this time around.  More persistent, at least.  And, in the first of what I'm sure will be a million "Your brother Walter never did that..." observations that I intend to keep mostly to myself, I'm finding this pregnancy is a lot more tiring for me.  (Pregnancy is hardest on husbands, obviously.)  With Walter, when Annie was feeling out of commission, I could get the essentials covered, with only some minor slipping, like dishes stacking up in the sink.  But now the minor slipping could be Walter, slipping down the stairs.  So, we yield a little extra sleep in the name of constant vigilance.  Totally worth it.  Honestly, it's hard to sleep with that image in my head anyway.

One byproduct of my big case of the sleepies has been a hit to my productivity, already a bit tenuous to begin with.  Indeed, this was meant to be our baby announcement post, and here I am publishing – well, not at the final hour, but certainly later than traditional.  I was planning a long reflection on how becoming a bigger family would mean sharing our attention fairly (if not evenly) with Walter and Newbie, in all things, right down to blog posts.  But as time wore on, and Annie's excitement about Newbie grew to bursting – well, not literally bursting yet, just a cute bump – we decided we couldn't wait for a magnum opus.  And I'm glad we didn't.  As intentional and conscientious as we'll need to be with our time and resources as parents, and as incomparably comfy as a soft hand-me-down t-shirt is, it's nice we were able to start Newbie off with something entirely new and personal.

BTW, for my money, you can't beat Patti Labelle.  I mean, she's got AB right in her name.

It's better than that

There's a classic Lou and Peter Berryman song, embedded in my brain since my early early childhood, about how awesome it is to be an adult. The lyric that I remember best is "Take 50 grand/ To Disneyland/ It's better than that."  When I was a kid, the irony of this song (and all other Berryman songs, really) was pretty much lost on me.  I assumed that being an adult really was all dessert before dinner and going to bed whenever the heck you feel like it.  As I got older and took on more and more adult responsibilities, I realized ...

... it's true.  Being an adult is awesome.

Stay with me, here.  There are times when my belief in this truth is tested, even deeply shaken.  There have been several times this week, even.  Mostly we struggle with home ownership and and the endless list of things to do and fix and pay for, all priorities.  Money and house stuff have been very stressful, lately.  It hasn't helped that I've been so sick, which takes up a lot of my time and energy, leaving Sean to focus his time and energy on all these other adult worries.

But on Wednesday night we got home from Lenten midweek service, put Walter to bed, retrieved two perfect pieces of pie from their hiding place in our workshop/box room (project #482,) picked up some forks, went upstairs, got into bed and turned on the TV.

*Sigh of complete contentment*

As we snuggled in and did our best not to get crumbs in the bed, "It's better than that" played merrily on the accordion in my mind.  No irony.  Not in that moment, at least.

Newbie!

So, we've got some news to share!  Many folks already know--our immediate family members, our congregation, our co-workers.  We put off the big Internet reveal until the time felt right, and it feels pretty right right now.  Also, I don't think it would have been a good idea for me to write anymore "I haven't left my bed all day; the dog is worried" posts without some explanation. No, it's not a terrible case of winter-related ennui ... OK, it's not ONLY winter-related ennui.  It's the tail end of the first trimester and the start of the second ... we're having a Newbie!

We found out, officially, about a week before Christmas.  Unofficially, I knew way, way before that.  I was so early in my pregnancy-related suspicions that I rushed the blood test (negative--too early) and a few days later got a positive home test at what might have been the first moment of a discernible trace of hCG. When she called with the results from the follow up bloodwork, Nurse B asked cautiously, "What did you say the date of your last cycle was?" I told her.  "Oh my goodness," she said, relieved. "These numbers are fine.  You're not even four weeks pregnant. Had a hunch, eh?" Eh indeed.

I don't know exactly what it was that prompted our decision to try again.  It was probably a good run of Walter sleeping through the night combined with the romance of late autumn in Wisconsin (when young parents' thoughts are turned to love and whether or not we should buy a snowblower this year ... yes to both, it turns out.)  Why another baby? Why now? Lots of reasons, many of them tough to sort out in my mind. The wonderfulness of Walter was a big contributing factor.  My ever-increasing appreciation of the value of siblings helped, too (a note to Sean's siblings, their spouses, and their children: this is all your fault for being so awesome.)  A clean bill of health and encouragement from all my doctors, including the nephrologist  who looked after me when Walter was born, also aided the cause.

So, we tried, and sooner than we imagined (but not sooner than we'd hoped) we got our Newbie.  I'd been planning to use one of my dad's favorite nicknames for me, Lemur, which is a wonderful nickname but didn't stick.  In the laughter and tear-filled glow of that first night of knowing, Sean and I kept returning to our joy and wonder, to the promise of this new baby.  This Newbie.  So, not the condescending Dr. Cox version from Scrubs ... more like the later version when you realize how much he really cares for J.D.  If Newbie is born already using copious amounts of hair product, we will accept full responsibility.

We're about to start week 16, a week that all the books say might be the week when I stop feeling so awful all the time.  This is about when I started feeling better with Walter (maybe that was closer to week 17) but we shall see. In the midst of all the really unpleasant symptoms of early pregnancy (and I've got them all, once again, because I am an overachiever) we've still had more than our fair share of joy and delight.  I seem to be already aware of Newbie's movements, for one thing, which is way early but within the realm of possible for the second pregnancy.  Amusingly, Dr. M was really skeptical of my flutter-feeling claim, while Nurse B., mom of two, said, "Of course you can feel it! It's your second baby! You know what's going on, now!"

And I do ... Sean and I both do, not entirely, but more than we knew the first time around.  We had some bleeding at twelve weeks, which was terrifying and made our twelve week ultrasound a nervous event indeed, but when we realized it was the same kind of bleeding I had early on with Walter, our alert status went down to a manageable "slightly elevated."  Of course, everything is also completely different this time.  Walter's energy level has not been impacted at all by my first trimester exhaustion.  Hank is like, "Who do I fret over?  The baby?  The new baby?  Mama? Mama."  Sean is amazing, but that is not new, just at a whole new level.    

The best example I can think of to explain the new-but-familiar feeling of this pregnancy is the experience of hearing Newbie's heartbeat at my appointments.  We never got to hear the Bean's heartbeat--our first pregnancy was lost so soon.  Maybe because of that, and maybe because of something inherent to all pregnancies, there is an anxious moment every time the doppler wand comes out.  But then the sound comes, barely audible at first, and then strong as anything.  The sound of a baby's heartbeat is one I was conditioned over 10 months or so to find instantly reassuring ... and it is.  I think about Walter whenever I hear it, and can't believe how far we've come from those first early listenings.  It is also brand new, each time, and thrilling every time I get to hear it. "That's my Newbie!" I think.  And all is well.

Newbie, 12 weeks gestation. Looks like Mama!

Odds and Ends

It's Friday, my Sabbath day, and I've spent most of it in bed.  Hank has been my constant companion.  He stood by the bed and gently reminded me that it was time to wake up this morning.  He slept in his bed at the foot of my bed, woke up with me and accompanied me downstairs for lunch, then back upstairs.  I just apologized to him for disturbing him when I got up to go to the bathroom.  Now that it's past 4pm, he's dividing his time between the top of the bedroom stairs and the living room to keep an eye on me and be close to the door for when Sean and Walter get home.  If they arrive any later than 5pm, he'll take up a post by the front door to wait for them more intently.

The receptionist at our vet's office observed yesterday that Hank is a "very family oriented dog." It's true.  I worry about how much he worries about us.  I feel terrible for his prematurely white muzzle, which developed during the last weeks of my pregnancy and first weeks of Walter's arrival. But I am thankful for his watchful, protective companionship, for his ministry of warm, furry presence.

This morning Walter delighted in bringing Hank his collar, and later his leash to get him ready for his morning walk.  He greets his dog every morning with a cheerful "Hank-eeeee!"  Walter knows.  We're a lucky family.

***

Walter woke up this morning singing "Happy birthday day to you!" which is pretty neat, since it's his 16 month birthday today.  He is bright and beautiful beyond bearing, really.  I get overwhelmed at least once a day with it. This morning he also sang, "A, B, C ..." when he usually just says "A, B" and stops there.  We were overjoyed and clapped and praised him.  He was pleased but very embarrassed, tucking his chin down to his chest to hide his secret smile, turning around and heading right out the door of his room.  The bashfulness ... where does it come from? Will it continue?  Does he secretly know how to sing the entire alphabet already?  I suspect he does.

These days Walter loves: his bath crayons ("colors!"), anything Jim Henson, especially Elmo (we may have had some influence, here, but he's taken to it like bath crayons to our tub,) crackers and cookies (sometimes foods, Walter, these are sometimes foods,) broccoli (gotta balance out the crackers,) being sung to and listening to music and, more and more, chiming in with the songs.  He is perfecting the dramatic heavy sigh of frustration and disappointment.  He occasionally makes wookiee noises when he's really upset.  I don't laugh at him when he does this, but I do tuck my chin down and smile a little bit.