Friday, August 31, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Daughter dream
A few days before we found out the sex, I dreamt it would be a girl.
In the dream, I came home from a business trip, and our little girl was saying "Papa! Papa!"
I turned to Ivy and said, "Wait, when did she start talking? How did I miss that?"
Ivy didn't say anything, but our daughter responded: "Oh, I've been talking for weeks now!"
In the dream, I came home from a business trip, and our little girl was saying "Papa! Papa!"
I turned to Ivy and said, "Wait, when did she start talking? How did I miss that?"
Ivy didn't say anything, but our daughter responded: "Oh, I've been talking for weeks now!"
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Baby music
I take a lot of inspiration from music. My iPod has a favorites list that doesn't have too many songs on it, but I listen to them over and over again because they inspire me.
Two songs are particularly inspiring to me lately.
Just before we found out we were pregnant, I watched a video of a Jethro Tull concert at the Montreaux.
Ian Anderson, the flutist and lead singer of the band, performed a song that I fell in love with immediately. He called it Eurology. I've always loved Ian Anderson's rock 'n roll flute, but this song captivated me in a way that very few songs ever have.
When Ivy's home pregnancy test came up positive, I listened to the song again, and tears came to my eyes. The driving, galloping flute that opens the piece felt like that tiny embryo rushing to life. Soon after that starts a section of two flute parts in harmony, which made me think of Ivy and I, waiting and watching this tiny little person, waiting to love and care for her.
I've listened to Eurology countless times, and I feel chills every time.
Another song, much older, has resonated with me. Roll with the Changes, by REO Speedwagon, has always been one of my favorites. Now it has new meaning for me every time I listen to it, and I listen to it a lot lately.
The lyrics just about perfectly sum up how I feel about all this:
As soon as you are able,
woman, I am willin'
To make the break that we are on the brink of
My cup is on the table,
my love is spillin'
Waiting here for you to take and drink of
So, if you're tired of the same old story,
turn some pages
I will be here when you are ready
to roll with the changes
I knew it had to happen,
felt the tables turnin'
Got me through my darkest hour
I heard the thunder clappin,'
felt the desert burnin'
Until you poured on me like a sweet sun shower
So, if you're tired of the same old story,
turn some pages
I will be here when you are ready
to roll with the changes
Two songs are particularly inspiring to me lately.
Just before we found out we were pregnant, I watched a video of a Jethro Tull concert at the Montreaux.
Ian Anderson, the flutist and lead singer of the band, performed a song that I fell in love with immediately. He called it Eurology. I've always loved Ian Anderson's rock 'n roll flute, but this song captivated me in a way that very few songs ever have.
When Ivy's home pregnancy test came up positive, I listened to the song again, and tears came to my eyes. The driving, galloping flute that opens the piece felt like that tiny embryo rushing to life. Soon after that starts a section of two flute parts in harmony, which made me think of Ivy and I, waiting and watching this tiny little person, waiting to love and care for her.
I've listened to Eurology countless times, and I feel chills every time.
Another song, much older, has resonated with me. Roll with the Changes, by REO Speedwagon, has always been one of my favorites. Now it has new meaning for me every time I listen to it, and I listen to it a lot lately.
The lyrics just about perfectly sum up how I feel about all this:
As soon as you are able,
woman, I am willin'
To make the break that we are on the brink of
My cup is on the table,
my love is spillin'
Waiting here for you to take and drink of
So, if you're tired of the same old story,
turn some pages
I will be here when you are ready
to roll with the changes
I knew it had to happen,
felt the tables turnin'
Got me through my darkest hour
I heard the thunder clappin,'
felt the desert burnin'
Until you poured on me like a sweet sun shower
So, if you're tired of the same old story,
turn some pages
I will be here when you are ready
to roll with the changes
Ivy's horrified face
In the midst of the 20-week ultrasound appointment, Ivy and I had a moment.
We'd just spent 45 minutes in the ultrasound room, watching a monitor as the instrument revealed pictures of our daughter. The profiles were cute, but lots of other bits of her anatomy weren't. Some of the pictures were downright creepy.
After the ultrasound, the nurse showed us to a room, took Ivy's blood pressure, and then left us alone. We discussed the images.
"The backbone was freaky," Ivy said. "You should have seen my face when I saw it."
She made a horrified face. I laughed. Then I had a thought. "Do it again. I want to post a picture. 'This is how Ivy looked when she saw the backbone.'"
"No. I can't do it now," she said.
I thought for a moment. Then I remembered the roll of pictures that the nurse gave us when we left the ultrasound room. I unfurled it. "Maybe it's in here. If I show it to you again, then can you do it?"
We were both laughing when the doctor tapped on the door and entered. "I see you two are having fun. This is always the funnest appointment in the pregnancy," she said.
If she only knew.
We'd just spent 45 minutes in the ultrasound room, watching a monitor as the instrument revealed pictures of our daughter. The profiles were cute, but lots of other bits of her anatomy weren't. Some of the pictures were downright creepy.
After the ultrasound, the nurse showed us to a room, took Ivy's blood pressure, and then left us alone. We discussed the images.
"The backbone was freaky," Ivy said. "You should have seen my face when I saw it."
She made a horrified face. I laughed. Then I had a thought. "Do it again. I want to post a picture. 'This is how Ivy looked when she saw the backbone.'"
"No. I can't do it now," she said.
I thought for a moment. Then I remembered the roll of pictures that the nurse gave us when we left the ultrasound room. I unfurled it. "Maybe it's in here. If I show it to you again, then can you do it?"
We were both laughing when the doctor tapped on the door and entered. "I see you two are having fun. This is always the funnest appointment in the pregnancy," she said.
If she only knew.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
One-Two Punch
On Monday, Ivy called me to say that she felt the baby today for the first time, at least the first time she was pretty certain that that was what she was feeling (and not indigestion or some other pregnancy symptom).
She called it a one-two punch.
Friday, August 24, 2012
She's a she!
Wednesday was our 20-week ultrasound appointment. The nurse asked us if we wanted to know the sex. We told her we did, and she showed us the relevant picture, and asked us to perform the diagnosis.
Having no good idea what we were looking at, we both tentatively guessed it was a boy. Wrong! It's a girl!
That's good, because we had a girl's name picked out, but had made little progress on boy's names.
In the past two days, we each dreamed about the baby, and in both cases it was a girl, so I guess our subconsciouses knew something we didn't.
All of the tests and measurements came out normal.
So, meet....
The Coming Child!
Having no good idea what we were looking at, we both tentatively guessed it was a boy. Wrong! It's a girl!
That's good, because we had a girl's name picked out, but had made little progress on boy's names.
In the past two days, we each dreamed about the baby, and in both cases it was a girl, so I guess our subconsciouses knew something we didn't.
All of the tests and measurements came out normal.
So, meet....
The Coming Child!
 |
| Profile shot |
 |
| Feet! |
 |
| Hand! |
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Lola Priscila's Prophecy
When we decided to get married, Ivy and I went to get the blessing of Lola Priscila, Ivy's 90-year old grandmother and the family matriarch.
We were in Manila in April, and it was hot and humid. She lay on a bed in an upstairs bedroom, attended by a maid. She was sleepy when we first arrived, but seemed to perk up when she realized that this American wanted to marry her granddaughter.
Ivy made the announcement: "Lola, Jim and I are going to be married."
She smiled warmly at both of us, and then got a little twinkle in her eye. "Congratulations on the coming child!"
Ivy was scandalized. "Lola! I'm not pregnant!" she said, laughing.
Lola's smile widened. "I said 'the coming child.'"
That was in 2005.
I'm not a particularly spiritual person. I don't actually believe in souls, at least most days.
But sometimes I think back on Lola Priscila's words, and I think about the tiny baby girl growing inside Ivy, and I wonder whose soul might be in there.
We were in Manila in April, and it was hot and humid. She lay on a bed in an upstairs bedroom, attended by a maid. She was sleepy when we first arrived, but seemed to perk up when she realized that this American wanted to marry her granddaughter.
Ivy made the announcement: "Lola, Jim and I are going to be married."
She smiled warmly at both of us, and then got a little twinkle in her eye. "Congratulations on the coming child!"
Ivy was scandalized. "Lola! I'm not pregnant!" she said, laughing.
Lola's smile widened. "I said 'the coming child.'"
That was in 2005.
I'm not a particularly spiritual person. I don't actually believe in souls, at least most days.
But sometimes I think back on Lola Priscila's words, and I think about the tiny baby girl growing inside Ivy, and I wonder whose soul might be in there.
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