May 28, 2012

Today I stood at the edge of the ocean where I have stood 29 summers before... before I could have ever imagined your name... and thought of all the days that came later when I hoped and wondered if I would get to show you this place where I was a girl, a child, and now, your mother. The sun moved over my belly and you within it and together we went into the surf.

Birthday Eve

In a few hours, it will be my birthday. I suppose technically it's my birth day now, but as a bit of a birthday purist I don't really feel it until the actual time of my birthday which was 9:47am on May 19th, in a year gone by called 1982. Let the math lead you where it may.

When I was little I saw my parents "being 30" and thought "that will be the age when I eat vegetables without prompting, can drive, and will be given my very own house by the grown up fairies." As I grew, I saw 30 in all of a teenager's simple-minded cliches.. old, boring, the end of childish fun and spontaneity. When I fell in love, 30 became an end goal. A "have this done by then" check-point of domestic success. When I married at 26, I felt 30 give its nod of approval. When I separated at 28, I looked to 30 in shame. I spent most of 29 looking forward to once again being at 0. 3-0.

Today is not just my birthday, it's also my baby shower. My wonderful, constant mother and grandma-to-be is throwing a shower for the nugget and I, and I tell you, if you can time it just so, there is no better way to spend your birthday eve than in anticipation of a gathering of family and friends celebrating the near arrival of your first little bundle of sweetness and joy.

I don't know how I feel about 30 today. I suppose I'm ambivalent towards thinking anything about it at all. I look in the mirror and see an older face and a healthy body and I'm proud of having gotten here with my mind, predominantly, intact. I'm turning 30 and my baby is rolling and stretching and I can feel her tiny feet and hands reaching towards my belly button (and towards freedom, perhaps? nope, not possible, can't think about that impending reality right now) and my new perspective is that this year... and the next and the next.. are going to be anything but boring. After three decades of wondering what "30" would mean for me, it really couldn't be less about me at all, and that is wholly and thoroughly refreshing.

My heart is full and I'm too excited to sleep. Turning 30? Not much different than turning 5 or 10 it seems.

Balloons, Youngna Park

The man in my life

I have had a post in draft form for several weeks now, introducing you to the man who, among many other things, is the father of the sweet little baby due to arrive sometime in the next ten weeks or so.  I let him read the first few paragraphs last night and he smiled and playfully called me a nerd, probably because, I am true to form, the first few paragraphs were mostly me writing the way I would tell you the story in person - overly, and perhaps unnecessarily, animated, sarcastic, rambling, and dotted with irrelevant references to whatever was distracting my train of thought at the time. 

I sat down tonight to finish that post and do what I've been wanting to do for a while - to let you in on this new(ish) part of my life and fill in some details of the story of how this baby came to be. But I can't finish that post now, at least not in the way it was written. I was trying to tell you how and where we began, and though it's only been a few months since, that could not be further from where we are now. I just can't start our story there, though I'm certainly going to save that post for sometime down the road. Eventually the girl-meets-boy story will have to be told.

Until then. This is him..

Handsome fella, and the hat is permanent.

We had just signed for our first house together and as we were leaving the parking lot after a celebratory lunch, I said, "We're going to be roommates!", which still makes me laugh since we are also going to be parents, and one would think that sort of trumps the roommate milestone. This was his face. He makes it often. I love it.

Tonight we were talking about the children we may have later. The possibilities of our future are something we've discussed several times, to varying degrees of seriousness, and probably on both sides with varying degrees of faith and trust. I question myself frequently. I question my ability to make something last. I question whether I'm the kind of woman who can do more than one thing well. Can I be a mother, have a career, make a home, continually nurture a relationship, and do each thing well enough to be worthy of any? I don't yet have an answer.

I wonder sometimes how he is dealing, what he is thinking, if he is still happy and fulfilled being the man in my life. If he is as excited to be a parent with me as I am to be a parent with him. I keep waiting for there to be moments of hurt, or of wanting more, wanting me to not have the bags I came with, but what comes instead is moment after moment of love, support, and opportunity to build this life together. He is teaching me patience and acceptance and shows me every day what it is to let someone love you whatever way they know how.

He said something to me tonight that I will remember always. I hope when he reads this, he knows what it was.

Christmas in May

And here I thought I was gonna have to miss out on leopard skinnies since I'm a full 7.5 months pregnant while they're at their peak.  Turns out, someone read my letter to Santa.

Asos, $69.08. And free shipping, Whee!