I haven't felt much like blogging lately, probably because it feels like there isn't a whole lot to say. Y is still pregnant. Things are still on-track. The issues that V was concerned about are still issues, but both V and I are less worried that they will be the sort of issues that cause a change of heart for Y. I think about Y every day, pray for her, imagine what she looks like, try to remember what she sounds like. I would talk to her every day if that were remotely possible.
It's not. She barely has time to make it to doctor's appointments, much less talk to me, the person who will be going home with her baby in a few weeks. I get it, I totally understand. When we do talk it's good, though. V assures me that it's not just me who hangs up the phone feeling better about everything.
Y saved ultrasound photos for us, and V has apparently put them in the mail. I was touched that Y would think to send them to us. V told me that after Y got done with her ultrasound they were looking over the pictures together and neither one of them could tell which end was up. Apparently Y said to V, "It's okay. Alissa will be able to see the baby in the pictures, she'll know what she's looking at."
I hope I will. Y sounds so confident in me, I don't want to let her down.
So that's what's up. I feel like there isn't much to tell, in some ways everything is suspended while we wait for baby J to make her appearance, and for whatever is going to happen after that to happen. But at the same time there is a lot of animation, much movement here. We are slowly collecting what we'll need, taking inventory of the mountain of sweet hand-me-down clothes from friends, scrambling to finish one last purge of our clothes and things, deciding on bottles and swaddles and sleepers and many many more things. I want this camera. I want the perfect nursery. I want to finish all the schoolwork I can now, so I can be all about her when she arrives, if she is indeed to be mine. (I want to believe that this is really going to happen.)
V asked Y how important it is to her that we are there when the baby is born, on a scale of 1 to 10. She said 10.
So we are trying to protect ourselves in little ways. I don't use the name we picked out, I literally say "the baby" or "baby J." Andrew is even more careful than I am. We don't say "our" or "my" when we talk about her. I don't think the word "daughter" has been spoken aloud in our house. Other people jokingly refer to us as "mom" or "daddy" but we don't use those words to describe ourselves.
Instead we get ready, we make a place for her in our home and our hearts and we wait, fingers crossed and eyes open, in suspended animation.