my dear nori,
so, you could be born today. or tomorrow. or anywhere within the span of the next two weeks. it really depends on who you want to prove right- intuitive healers with pendulums, your grandmothers, the mayans, or our midwife. right now you seem very content to hang out in your womb-room, while the world around you hustles and prepares everything for your arrival. the floors have been swept spotless. your impossibly tiny clothes have been washed in baby safe detergent and neatly folded. a flower bed has been planted in our backyard by your ‘mamani’ ready to welcome you. i sat through a how-to video on breastfeeding that was shot in 1989 and tried not to get distracted by all the glorious permed hair. your fashionista aunt anisa has even waxed her legs. so when i say everything, i mean e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. has been prepared for your imminent arrival.
this past sunday you had your first party. your papa made sure you made quite the entrance wearing bright green. he was adamant that you had to be ‘on display’ so 5 minutes before the party i shimmied into a pre-pregnancy dress. and then prayed that you wouldn’t burst asunder from its screaming seams. your protrusion was definitely the guest of honor at the party and you were loved and caressed and hugged by so many of our dearest friends and family members. you also scored some pretty amazing gifts. in fact, you now have so many outfits that i’m worried that you will out-grow them before you can make the rounds of wearing them all.
and let’s just talk about these clothes of yours for a moment. OH.MY! they are so small. so perfect. so soft and delicate and adorable. i want to gather them all up in a big bundle on our bed and roll about in them. i know that sounds crazy. and i know such behavior should be relegated to situations that involve an abundance of $100 bills. but i just can’t help it. the thought of you growing out of these clothes literally makes my heart ache. and suddenly i’m fast-forwarding to the day when instead of fitting 50 of your outfits into the washing machine, i’ll only be able to fit a pair of your jeans, some shirts and a hoodie, because my once-tiny-baby-boy will be a giant. and i’ll be honest, the only thing that is preventing me from weeping all over this keyboard is a vague curiosity of what washing machines might look like by the time we get to that point.
our house is so quiet and still right now. it’s just you and i here – a very rare occurrence that i’m luxuriating in. your grandmothers have gone to the store. your papa is at the editing suite working so hard as always. and i’m sitting here on our bed entirely at peace. i’m filled to the brim with you little nori, both literally and figuratively it seems. and these heartbeats of mine that you’ve become accustomed to hearing carry so much gratitude and hope and promise for you. as much as i may want to, however, i cannot offer you any guarantees about this world we are welcoming you to. there will be thursday afternoons just like today when the sun shines amidst a cloudless skies and everything seems to be in perfect harmony, but unfortunately our greater globe is also rife with injustice, turbulence and confusion. i cannot make you assurances that your heart won’t be broken, or that you will never lie awake feeling scared or anxious. i can’t shelter you from every instance of hurt or pain. but i can promise you that i will always be your mama. i will forever be the first person who knew of your existence and loved you from that very instant. i will always be your biggest supporter, your greatest defender, and i will do my very best to create the safest, softest place for you to land whenever you need it.
i cannot wait to meet you my tiny darling.
when dev and i first found out that i was pregnant we decided that while i was in the somewhat fragile early stages, we’d keep the news pretty quiet. which was incredibly hard for both of us to do. one day dev suggested i start writing letters to ‘nori’ (devon’s codename for our baby) so that i could at least have some kind of outlet for my hard-to-contain-excitement. here are the rest: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9.