baby proofs

For the first time in a while, I woke up to the sound of rain pitter-pattering outside my daughter's window and I felt at peace.  I had slept with her last night after having put her down for the night and her dad had not returned home yet from a hockey game with his friends.  I don't even know when he came in, and by the time I woke, he had already left for work.

I had a OB appointment early this morning before heading into work.  Although this was only a monthly checkup, I am actually really excited about it since it has been nearly two months since I had an appointment, and the same amount of time had passed since I had physical confirmation of the child in my belly.  From the prior pregnancy, I knew that I would at least get to hear the baby's heart beat, and have yet another confirmation, that it is alive and well.  For some reason, I had this thought that maybe I had made up the whole pregnancy in my head and that the appointment today was going to confirm that there was no baby after all, even though I had a first ultrasound pictures of a blob to prove it, and the subsequent flutters in my belly since then.  But it's always nice to be reminded, so I actually looked forward to this appointment with great anticipation.

Because I changed health care provider between the first and second pregnancy, the whole process of pregnancy check up is new to me with a new provider, even though I have gone through this whole thing once already.  When I arrived at the appointment and performed the usual pee in a cup and asked all the questions that had been in my mind, I was surprised to see that an ultrasound machine was wheeled into the room so that I can see the baby yet again.  With the last pregnancy, the one and only ultrasound that I received was at the anatomy scan appointment (also known as the appointment where the sex of the baby can be determined).  Already I liked the current health care provider since I received an ultrasound for every visit so far, with the next visit being the anatomy scan, which is another guaranteed look at the baby.  Obviously I don't expect to see the baby with every single visit, and I was told so by the doc, but having a glimpse of the baby three time by the time I turn 20 weeks is pretty awesome, and after that, I should have daily reminders that the baby does in fact exist and is growing by the thumps and kicks I should feel against my rib cage or other parts in my belly. 

For some reason, probably because of the surprise of it all, I got a little emotional in seeing the baby this time around on the screen.  Maybe it is because the last time I saw "it", there was only a blob on the screen with nothing more than a little heartbeat that can be made out.  Here I am at 7 weeks later, and I can made out the perfect profile with arms and legs that move, and a strong heartbeat to go with it.  In fact, just to give me another confirmation of its existence, as I see the movement on the screen, I also felt a movement in my belly at that exact moment.  March 28th just cannot come soon enough so we can see our baby again.  And currently, we are set on not finding out the sex of the baby, but only time will tell in these next four weeks what we will decide on.  But for now, these pictures will have to hold me over until the next time I see my baby on screen in 4 weeks.

January 6, 2012 - 8 weeks gestation

February 29, 2012 - 15 weeks gestation

Things loved in January and February

It's not secret that I didn't take a whole lot of pictures during the month of January and February with the good camera.  But that doesn't mean that our lives went undocumented.  I took full advantage of the convenience of the iPhone and Instagram.  Here are some still glimpses and some things I love of this time.
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Every single day with my child is a blessing, at the highs and the lows and everywhere in between.  For every single breath that I take and every thank I whisper into the heaven, it just doesn't seem to do justice to the amazingness of this little being.

The girl loves her ice cream.

Potty training has begun.  So far so good.

Father-daughter relationship.  One of the hidden treasures of life that I've been given.

My friend's child, who I love and adore just like my own.  Also, I am now convinced that there really isn't any child left who are of a full single descendent.  Mixed babies rule.

Brother and sister love.  I also once caught my girl trying to mount our dog like he's a horse.  She wasn't successful since she was caught.  For now, she has a wooden horse to keep her satisfied.  I am certain that she will soon be successful with Reggie.

Her smiles and silliness.  They brighten my world.

My new office is up and running.  One of the first tasks that got completed there was an invitation suite I designed and completed for my sister-in-law's wedding reception in May.  Come hell or high waters, the next task that will be completed there is the CPA exam.

Pretty packaging is the sweet of life.

I get a little glimpse of what my future will look like, and I don't like the view from here.

A little glimpse of the disarray of my living room and what I would imagine my view will look like when it is time for school.  I cry a little at the sight of both.

Devil dog and devil pup.  Enough said.

Bath time is an adventure, for both the little babe and her parents.

 

A little Valentine Day's surprise melted my heart, especially since I didn't expect anything.

A little surprise awaiting me on V-day in the passenger seat of my car.  I didn't even notice it until I was well out of the driveway where I made a sudden stop.

My baby cousin turned 21, another reminder that I am becoming an old woman saddled down with kids.

 

The first appearance of the baby bump.

Nap time is perfection.

My girl's speech is bursting.  Her greatest and latest includes "I told you" "where are you?" "Whoa!" "Cool" "Awesome!"

Hidden between my legs and right on cue with a perfect "Where are you?"
 
 

The pose she held when you say "Look up!"

A V-day dedication to my husband

The past week had been really crazy at work, with stress causing everyone to attack each other and I come home each night utterly exhausted. 

My dear husband has been putting up with a lot lately, between mood swings, exhaustion from work and exhaustion from the pregnancy.  I am pretty much useless at night since the only things I can muster up with the little amount of energy I have left after I leave the office is to play with my daughter until she goes down for the night, at which time I take it as my cue to do the same.  So my dear husband has been the one who has to pick up the slacks I left.  It's the little things: getting me a cup of water, getting up to get Lia's toothbrush so I can brush her teeth, getting me the bucket of ice cream and taking care to wrap a piece of paper towel around it won't be too cold to the touch, putting back said ice cream once I'm done.  I'm certain that if he wasn't there to do these things, I would probably still be able to muster up some energy to do it myself, but it is so nice to not have to do it.

I realize that having children can cause a lot of strain in a relationship, in a marriage.  And honestly, there are some days nights I go to bed with no more than a shout of "love you" across the hall to my daughter's room where he remains putting our child to bed before I turn out the light and doze to sleep a nanosecond later.  There are some days where I whisper promises of doing better by our relationship as soon as the exhaustion of the first trimester pass.  But through all these times, he remained a patient and kind spouse and father, never having a breathe of complaint.

Now that we are three years into our marriage, raising one child and with another one on the way, I look back and compare the woman that I am today to the woman I was on my wedding day, and with great clarify, realize that they are two very different people.

While I was raised in a very traditional household with strong eastern beliefs, I consider myself a western woman, who hold beliefs more consistent with the western world.  These differences had caused many grief and drifts between my parents and I growing up, but that is a different story for another day.  But being that I am a western woman, I often scoffed at the stories of arranged marriages still exist in many of my Indian peers, and to some extent, my Asian peers whose parents are allowed to have a lot of influence over the spouses they choose.

Our relationship from the very beginning starts with two adults who found a lot of chemistry with each other and chose to begin a relationship on that basis.  Chemistry grew into love and then marriage and children.  But before all of that happened, we were responsible enough to know that chemistry and love alone may not always be sufficient to make a marriage, so we gave it a test drive and live with each other first before deciding to make it permanent.  Little did I know that the things we discovered about each other then barely scratched the surface of what we are really capable of until we have children.  And as I sit here today with one child and another one on the way, I can say with certainly that the same can be said about today should tomorrow comes with new challenges - such as sickness - that will test our very core being.

But through the years, one thing I can say with certainty is that I chose a good man, one that I will choose over and over again in a heart beat.  I am constantly in awe of my husband's kindness and patience. And while we constantly experience the typical challenges that face many married couple on the daily, we have so much respect and understanding for each other's differences, and I think that makes a world of difference in the end. 

And the times in between the little things and the big things? There is still so much spark left from that initial spark that ignites this whole love. 

Week 74: Your assumptions about the lives of others are in direct relation to your naïve pomposity.

Many people who appear to you to be old and stupidly saddled down with kids and cars and houses were once every bit as hip and pompous as you.  Many people you believe to be rich are not rich. Many people you believe have it easy worked hard for what you got. Many people you believe have it all have suffered, and are suffering. 

You know what they say about assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.

Week 73: Politely refuse that really sweet couple who invite you over for dinner and ecstacy.

The temptation for drugs exists everywhere - at your high school hallway, at the dinner party in your late twenties.  Please do yourself and your mother a favor and just say no to these offers.

Week 72: Be brave enough to break your own heart

There will probably come a time when you want to break up with someone you love, but cannot find a good enough reason to do so, other than that you know in your heart of heart that you want to leave.  Wanting to leave is reason enough.  You are not a terrible person for it.  You are not morally bankrupt for it.  But realize in the process of breaking someone's heart that yours will do the same.  In these circumstances, be brave enough to break your own heart.

Lia, at 18th months

I lived the first ten years of my life in a very rural part of a third world country, so, the poverty of these parts are multipled from the usual scenes that you typically see on infomercials on TV asking for donations.  I don't really remember much about this early part of my life, and I think whatever memories I have are slightly skewed from reality because I am viewing them through the eyes of a child.  I now realize that that time of our lives were extremely hard on my parents, the grown ups who have to worry about our very survivor, I remembered it as something different, something a bit out of a storybook, of a simpler time and place.

One of my earliest recollection of my life was a seemingly poetic setting of a night, where the stars were out and the only light was a few flickers emitting from the burning oil lanterns strewn about the space that we call our living room.  It was made of concrete, that my father had lay by hand, and the only furnishing was an overused hammock currently gathered in the corner but typically stretched from wall to wall by day, where babies were rocked to sleep in the crook of their parents arms.  I was one of those babies.  But that night, for some special reason, I was not forced to go to the house nearby where I usually sleep with my aunt because our house made of metal roof and concrete floor was too small to keep three kids.  I think I remembered this night specifically because it was so special that I get to do something out of the ordinary.

I stayed past my bedtime; it felt like it was way past midnight but now looking back, it must have been no more than 7pm.  My mom, my little sister and I gathered on the hard floor, on top of crinkled layers of blankets as a result of two rambunctious kids.  I have no idea where my brother was in this scene. I played with my plastic doll, and my sister with hers, both completely tattered and destroyed from too much use.  I specifically remembered that my doll had a hole where the nose used to be, but even my little mind at that time understood that we could not afford to replace her, so I continued to dote and love her through the days of lost her fingers and toes and nose.  But on that night, I was with my mom, I had my beloved doll, I was allowed to stay up late, and that was all I needed. 

I don't remember how old I was, I don't remember much of that life, we don't really talk about it as a family.  But yet, the few memories I do have, they are vivid, and they are clear.  I remembered how I felt as a child: safe, secure, loved - even though I am certain now that those times and circumstances were anything but.

I think how children feel during those first few years of their lives, while their little minds work over time to establish their long term memories, are absolutely crucial to their development later on in life.  I could have been 3 or 4 or merely 18 months of age, but the memories or more specifically, the way it made me feel, stuck with me throughout my life. 

My girl turned 18 months today, and I am acutely aware of how fragile this time is for her.  It is my job as her mama to create a secure environment for her to grow and thrive in our home.  And the greatest of these challenges is to protect her from harm, but at the same time encourage her budding mind to be independent and take the necessary risk to experiment and experience the world surrounding her.

Sometimes, I get a glimpse into my girl's personality and it makes my mama heart leaps.  Whenever I plop her down in a sea of kids at play dates, my shy girl is always a bit cautious at first.  She's not scared, but is neither aggressive.  She stands back, scans her environment, and searches for my eyes with this shy forlorn look from afar, as if asking me if it is okay to participate.  

When she gets my encouragement to go on, she'll then approach her object of affection, whether it is in a toy or in a little person, and continued with her usual active self.

She trusts herself, and is very intentional in her actions.  Her father and I had tried and failed miserably to dissuade her of something that she has already made up her mind about.  Try forcing her to eat more when she is full, try playing Dora for her on the iPad when she wants Elmo, try putting her down for a nap when she isn't ready...and there is hell to pay.

One of her greatest assets is her smile.  She is quick to give them and they light up her whole face.  I think this is the one piece of her that took after me the most. Throughout my life, I have been told over and over again that my smiles light up my face and on several occasions earned me the nickname smiley in some circles.  I am convinced, through my own experiences, that if you are skinny and wear a smile on your face, people will think you hold the secret to this life.  

I hope that she does find the secret to this life, so that she can be happy.  I hope that her father and I are successful in providing her with a sense of security in the process, so that she can be confident in her choices to pursue her passions with enthusiasm.

I suppose every person feel this way about the people they create, but still this one, really is something else.  I feel so lucky to be able to witness her choices and accomplishments, and my cheeks ache when I think about the person she'll grow into.

Getting back to routine

It seems that the first of every month for the past 18 months brought a familiar yet always surprising realization that another month had gone by.  Here we are on the first of February, I am again in awe of how fast January had gone by.  In a few days my daughter will be 18 months old, and I will be out of my first trimester of this pregnancy.  A lot is happening all at once, and I am acutely aware that I may not always be present in a lot of things, but I am also happy that for some things that are important, I made sure prioritize them. 

It seems like the month of January had particularly flew by for me because the early stage of this pregnancy left me utterly exhausted.  I left my house a mess, the kitchen counter and dining table is cluttered with crap from tax forms to Christmas presents, Lia's toys are left where they are left, my folded clothes are left on the floor of my very small master bedroom and we just dig through them every morning in search of something to wear for the day.  I usually almost always retire to bed and asleep by 9 or 9:30 pm alongside my daughter's bedtime.  I probably took no more than 5 pictures on my camera this month. 

I'm tired of living this way, as I am inherently a fairly neat person who like for my things to be in the places they belong.  As I am exiting the first trimester, my energy is returning and I am starting to feel like myself again.  Sometime in the early days of January, in some of my largest bouts of exhaustion, I have allowed myself the month of January to just grow a baby, which includes listening to my body and give in to whatever it wants, which includes very early bedtime and any food that is sour (including 1 whole pineapple to top off dinner). 

So, yesterday concludes the self-indulging behaviors and the new month brings on a new whole set of tasks and goals.  In some ways I am excited to get back to my normal self, getting back to the things I love to do.  I am glad for the time I had to recoup, but in many ways, I also feel like this time while totally necessary had led me to miss out on a lot of things.  Over the next few months, there are so many things happening.  I have to finish my sister-in-law's wedding invitation for her May 2012 wedding, a trip to Philadelphia for said wedding, attend so many milestone birthdays including kids and many 30th, complete the final exam for my CPA licensing, and spring is coming which means many more activities to do in the warmer months.  I'm ready for all these exciting things, even though I will rock a baby bump doing it.