Moment of Silence

Today was my due date.

My day started out bright and early with an 8:00 class. Well, early for me, anyway. And actually not bright at all because it was snowing -- the light, slushy kind that's more like rain that's just trying a little too hard but is still no fun to walk or drive in -- and dark. Dark enough that I almost didn't wake up on time because, obviously, if it's still that dark it's not early enough to be getting out of bed. At least it cleared up the nasty, nasty, NASTY smog we've been breathing for the last few weeks.

And I thought to myself, Well, at least Shallow Man doesn't have to drive me to the hospital in the snow.

Because I do try to look on the bright side when possible. And I really didn't want to have any kind of breakdown today.

So I went one further: I am grateful that I did not have to ride to the hospital in the snow with Shallow Man (a native Floridian; remind me to tell you about the first Christmas he spent with my family when it snowed nearly 16" in 24 hours) behind the wheel.

And one more: I'm glad that said ride did not happen while I was looking down the barrel of giving birth to a child for the first time. Because I can't imagine that particular set of circumstances would be terribly zen-inducing.

But I had to stop there. Because I really would rather have gone through all of that if it meant I'd be holding my baby in my arms tonight.

And I did make it through the day without a breakdown. Which is pretty amazing considering the far-above-average number of detailed delivery stories that were told to me today. Purely by chance. Because I'm lucky like that.

Realistically, of course, I know that I would probably still have been pregnant at this point anyway, because, hey, I'm always running late and any child of mine would obviously have several of my genes. But I'd rather think about my baby than about waiting, because, well, I do a lot of waiting as it is.

And then I need to think of the bright side again.

So.

At least I didn't have to ride to the hospital in the snow today.

Two blankets

Shallow Man and I went on our honeymoon to Disneyland. While we were there, we started up a family tradition and bought a soft stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh doll and a cute little bib, I think with Piglet on it, to eventually give to our firstborn. We weren't expecting to have children right away but knew we wanted them at some point. So we decided that every vacation we went on, we would buy a Christmas ornament (really convenient because you can display them for a month and then put them back in storage) and something for a future baby.

Of course, we weren't expecting things to take so long.

I was cleaning out my office in our house last week and found a few of the baby items which I had been looking at a few weeks back but hadn't put away at the time. Probably because I had figured that they would have to be gotten out again before too much longer anyway, so may as well leave them out.

Since that trip to Disneyland, we've managed to amass a significant amount of baby items. Not enough to fill up a nursery or anything like that, but five years' worth of globe-trotting certainly adds up. Throughout the years new gifts have joined Pooh and his bib. A sippy cup from Disneyland Paris, a jester hat from Geneva, a stuffed bear from the USS Alabama (of all places!), tiny socks from Santiago saying "I (heart) Papi," a smattering of onesies with cute sayings on them from all over the South, a knit poncho and hat from Peru, and so forth. Some onesies from my sisters, which they painted for us (one with Piglet, one with Pom Pom) when they were making some for Christmas for my other sister and my sister-in-law when they were pregnant with their first children. (My mom had called me beforehand to make sure we'd be okay with it.)

And, most recently, two blankets. One is from my grandfather's house, which was cleaned out recently when he moved in with my aunt's family. It was my favorite blanket to use during naptime when my grandparents were babysitting me as a child, and I think my sister and I even had a few fights back then over who got to use it. It's a little blue quilt, bright blue on one side and blue-and-white checked on the other with a picture of a little smiling caterpillar. The picture is surrounded by the kind of lace that you imagine lining pioneer petticoats and the quilt is tied with fluffy white yarn all over. I can't imagine how it has lasted through so many years and so many grandchildren and still be in such good shape. I picked it out during the cleanup especially so I could use it for my coming little one.

During the course of that day, my two sweet aunts, who were spearheading the cleanup effort, brought a bag over to me that they'd found which had two baby blankets in it that my grandmother had made before she passed away. This was during the weekend of my orphanhood, so I was the appointed representative for my family in bringing back items designated for them. My aunt L said that the blankets were for my sister and sister-in-law (both expecting their second children), or for me if I wanted one, or whatever I wanted. We hadn't made the announcement at that point so I just said it was fine for them to go to the sisters. Aunt L gave me a hug and said she hoped it would happen for us soon. I smiled and thanked her, thinking of our secret.

My aunt M said that she had a blanket to give to me instead, and in the course of a few weeks said blanket was passed along to me. It's also pretty adorable, with a pink border and floating cows. When I got it I squished it a few times and thought about wrapping up a baby in it. Both blankets had been living in my office ever since, as I hadn't figured out where I wanted to put them yet.

I found them, along with the poncho and some onesies, and squished them again a few times. Then I wrapped them up in a plastic bag. I'll put them away with the other baby gifts tomorrow, where they can all start waiting again.