week seventeen - uneventful

Uneventful is good. Ruth started school believing she would have a much heavier load of kids, but seems to have had a delightful first week. A week from Monday we will know the sex of Sprout (and anatomic details). Back when I was pregnant we didn't find out anatomic details - and I guess it's good to know but also gives me another milestone to get anxious about. I choose to focus on all well right now and curiosity about the sex. Exciting to think that in a week and a bit I can start choosing baby clothes that are not unisex.

Crazy hopeful Grandma

After a long work week, here I sit at the computer, waiting up for the ticker on Ruth's pregnancy blog to jump to week sixteen. Now I now that's nuts. I'm doing it anyway. She's starting back to work after school summer vacation and that scares me. I want to wrap her in cotton batting until this baby is born full term and healthy. And she's fine and there are no warning signs of any kind and loving is all I can do.

OK, the gimo is up - sixteen weeks - in reach of quickening. Grow Sprout, grow!

Superstitious

A friend on a message board titled a post about the death of a friend and the birth of a family baby "Circle of Life." Nothing odd about that - beautifully appropriate. I remembered though that that was the title Ruth used for her blog post right before she told me she was pregnant with Mira. It is a circle, birth and death, a cycle, and being reminded today in this way made me want to knock on wood.

NOT a nightmare phonecall

Last night about midnight, as I was climbing into bed, the phone rang. Turned out it was Bob sweetly wishing me goodnight. We had talked earlier so I wasn't expecting his very loving bedtime call. I panicked when the phone rang and relived answering the phone the night Ruth called from the emergency room bleeding, the night before Mira died. I talked with both Ruth and Chris on the phone in the middle of that terrible night, both of them brave and composed and shaky sounding. Last night nothing terrible happened. I was reminded one more time how sweet and fragile life as we know it is.

Week Fifteen

Hard to believe. Ruth looks beautiful every time I see her. They are fixing up the nursery since life will get busier once the school year starts. I still know how much can go wrong. I know we can't count of a baby in February - a healthy baby home in the comfortably and meticulously designed nest. But oh, am I hoping! I am consciously focusing on the probable good outcome not all the scary possibilities.

Consumer Grandma fantasy

I haven't bought anything yet for Sprout, or for Joanna's babe either. But I caught myself today in the gift store at the Texas State Aquarium looking at "first" puzzles and a sweet stuffed octopus and I probably would have bought something if I hadn't been needed to help my already living grand children figure out how to spend their money.

Fourteen weeks

I'm sitting up too late and jumped back to Ruth's pregnancy blog and saw that the boxes on the side have changed in the last hour - not thirteen weeks, fourteen. She's never been fourteen weeks pregnant before. Apparently Sprout can feel pressure on Ruth's abdomen at this point and will wriggle away if it is poked. I'm trying to remember if I felt that with the girls - the wriggling away. I guess the mom can't feel it at ths point - soon though - soon.

Double vision

Mostly these days I think about Ruth and pregnancy in terms of Sprout, not Mira. But occasionally I have a disturbing sort of double vision. Today, when I read in email of a friend's daughter who got pregnant at the same time Ruth got pregnant with Mira, I was hit hard by the realization that, had all gone well, we would be having baby showers, finishing up the nursery, and excitedly awaiting baby Mira in September. It won't be like that. We are awaiting baby Sprout in February. If Sprout hadn't been conceived, we would probably be grieving Mira hard right now. I cried for her tonight walking home from the bus stop in the sunset, gazing at the waxing half moon in the indigo sky. So much you missed little dragon fly girl, by flying away so soon. I wish it had been different.

Blessings for Sprout

Ruth wrote a wonderful blessing for her children back when they started trying to conceive five years ago. She posted it on her blog, http://sproutnhope.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-sprout.html today. It, and the beautiful Fred Small blessing Bob added in the comments section inspired me to write my own blessing for Sprout, really for all the grand kids born and unborn. My blessing is based on the teachings of my mentor and teacher Dorothy Satten about the basic rights of children, and on Abraham's destiny to "go out and be a blessing."

Blessing for Blooming

May you rest, feeling safe
confident you are welcome
cherished, protected,respected.
May you trust that you belong.

May you thrive, trusting
knowing we see your needs
and seek to meet them
as reality and reason permit.

May you grow, daring
to claim your personality
trusting us to trust you.
May you separate in strength.

May you explore, knowing
we honor you as you are
support your dreams and path.
However different from ours.

May you touch the divine
in your way, on your terms,
feeling infinite connection
with power beyond understanding.

May you delight in loving
and being loved, your way,
rich in intimate connection,
needed needing giving receiving.

May you know we celebrate
you for unique, precious self.
and sure of this, may you go forth
in love, not ego, to be a blessing.

Happy but not complacent

Ruth and Chris ares slowly starting to buy things for Sprout. They bought a darling, hilarious and probably very soft stuffed animal (composite, primary colored, manyfooted, named Sir Galumpalot) while they were in Seattle. I laugh at the beastie's picture and Chris' play threat to claim the soft one for himself. And I am so relieved that Ruth and Chris are in a stage of being able to laugh, play, hope, even start to plan a little. And every time I hear of another pregnancy loss, another very premature birth, a pregnant om with severe complications, I stop breathing. My spiritual discipline is to say a prayer for that person, that family, those circumstances - and then tell myself with gratitude "That isn't us, today." and go back into the discipline of living fully in the moment, which at this moment is good.

Sprout, The name

It's funny how, as I get less scared about Sprout, (Though much can still go wrong at least death can't come exactly as it did to Mira and that's something) I find myself having more ordinary thoughts about this pregnancy. One such thought is that, though Ruth doesn't know it, "Sprout" is one of the many nicknames my Daddy, who loved terms of endearment, called me as a little girl - right up there with "Little Squirt". It always pleases me when patterns unintentionally repeat.

Day 91

New territory - past Mira's lifetime. As far as I know, all is well with Sprout. And with Joanna's babe too. So many question marks in life. Today at the grocery store I enjoyed all the babies and little ones. Zachary's six, so it's been a while since our family has had arms full of little one - now two are coming. I'm excited, and suffering from an irrational desire to learn to knit soft things.