a personal note

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I am pregnant, and Richard and I are so happy to be expecting a baby girl in less than a month. I feel like I’ve lived with this pregnancy for so long now, and have gotten so used to my new lifestyle (decaf coffee, no wine, no Jillian Michaels 30-day Shred) and my big belly that everyone must know, but last week someone came up to me at Trader Joe’s and gasped, “Belle? Are you pregnant?” (Trust me, it is quite obvious, but she was very sweet.)

I didn’t post about it here because, well, I wasn’t posting much, but also because it felt like such fragile and improbable news. In the spring, when I was newly pregnant, I collected four-leaf clovers that I found along the river in a small notebook I used to take with me to the RE office. The first half of the book is all notes from those visits: E2 levels and follicle counts, plus the flavors of the Keurig machine in the reception area, what was on television, the color and texture of the wallpaper…  The second half is filled with dozens and dozens of pressed clovers.

Even when we relaxed a little about the pregnancy, the news felt very personal, and when I thought of posting her sweet ultrasound profile (which I look at all the time), it occurred to me that I could see it as an invasion of her privacy, so I didn’t. I think after she’s born I’ll be able to tell whether she’d be okay with having her photo on a blog or not, and we’ll go from there, and in the meantime I can post a picture of Julius sleeping in her crib and Loretta sleeping in her basket of diapers.

Otherwise, I’m writing about it: recently here and here, but also in some new pieces that are still coming together.

(The photo above is of me in Iceland last Christmastime, the big trip Richard and I took before beginning IVF.)

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7 Comments

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7 responses to “a personal note

  1. Belle,
    A poem about my newly born grandson.
    Joy! Karen

    “Meeting Wyatt” by Karen Tootelian
    From my journal, April 25, 2011—
    Wyatt, born April 11, 2011

    Cincinnati airport 8:15 a.m. As I wait to fly home, I sit in my own world, already the story forming of my new and first grandchild.

    He comes brand new to this Earth. Eyes close, then flutter open. He takes all thought, all energy, sleep, routine, serenity—certainties you thought you possessed. He takes you away from the worldly constructs you call your life to the primal beginnings of all beginnings.

    Grandmother now, mother anew to my precious daughter: my newborn, my toddler, child, teenager, young woman—utterly beautiful, her smooth skin, long silky dark hair, soft brown eyes vulnerable to this new life she brought into this world with much pain. What have I done she feels, she asks, a wave taking her under, her body not quite recognizable. She worries, she nurses, she holds gently, firmly. No going back, this precious life. Skin, bone, muscle, sweet mouth, blue eyes clear as water, possibilities as wide as sky.

    The wave passes.
    Like she and I, they are one, they are love.

  2. Pat Hoppe

    So wonderful…..I celebrate you three every day. Love. Pat h.

  3. Congratulations, Belle! I’m so happy for you.

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