30 weeks!

Liam is in week 30 - big enough to live if born - I think past "micropremie" at two pounds thirteen ounces last week. Ten weeks to go optimally - not a short time but not a long time. I'm more excited, less scared. Ruth made a blessing at the Thanksgiving table that she was thankful that this year was the first year all the kids were old enough for big person crystal goblets at dinner - and the last year for quite a while. I got tears and imagined how different it would have been with Mira at the table. Also that night, Ruth, K.K. and I talked in the kitchen while we put food away and just hung out while others watched football. We talked about babies and possible hair and eye color and the birth process and it felt so good - primal and female and tender. Ruth and K.K. look similar now - not baby and young woman, but two young women, one in the spring of early puberty and the other in the early summer of pregnancy, both with glowing skin and red hued hair. I hope Liam is a read head.

Two pounds 13 ounces!

That's what Liam was estimated to weigh at today's sonogram. Growing, growing growing - another blessing to celebrate at tomorrow's family table!

Coping mechanisms

I read today on the gizmo beside Ruth's pregnancy blog that Liam "would probably live if born prematurely now." And I realized that for the last couple of weeks, since "viability" I've been compulsively reading the blogs of families living with, raising, rejoicing in, prematurely born kids. It's funny the things we (I) do to keep going. Liam is now the size of a butternot squash. I intend to handle one at the store today.

More dead babies -

A coworker of Ruth had her baby die in utero, second trimester, like Mira. Today I went to the doctor's to get my flu shot (of which the were out AGAIN) and was chatting with the young receptionist, who said she had to get her flu shot last year because she was pregnant. I asked her how old her baby is now and she told me she lost her - also second trimester. Birth and death really do dance close.

When I least expect it...grief

Ruth is in her third trimester now. All is well. She says Liam dances jigs to music - such a joy. Mostly I focus on the joy and am less anxious as Liam becomes more and more likely to join us in this life. But grief can strike me from the oddest directions. It is cold tonight for the first time of the season so, before walking the dog, I went to the hall closet and took my heavy coat off of it's hanger. I slipped my hand into the pocket and felt loose beads from a bracelet I gave Ruth the night I learned she was pregnant with Mira. I also found a sticker from the Hilary Clinton rally that marked the last tie I saw Ruth pregnant with Mira. It was a happy night - hopeful - a cold night like this one. Now Ruth is pregnant with Liam and Mira died before we could know her. She will never vote for a woman for President, or for anyone for President. She will not be affected by the success or failure of Obama's Presidency. I won't be able to tell her she was tiny in the year of "Yes we can." I will be able to tell Liam that he was born (probably) a few weeks after Obama's inauguration. And that is good and exciting. Love really is stronger than loss AND loss really stings.

Still good

Ruth does not have gestational diabetes - recovered from an infection last week. Chris did not get shot when a crime went down in the neighborhood near his school. Liam thrives, moves, grows. I'm believing in him these days, more and more - imagining touching a little foot, the new, totally original scent and texture of his particular hair. And then I think how I'll never know Mira's scent and feel sad - and then I wonder exactly what color Liam's eyes will be.

President Obama

will be innaugurated before Liam is born - (given normal lengrh pregnancy). Wow! He will be born into a world in which there is no color line regarding the Presidency of his nation - a world with many economic, social, political problems, an uncertain world, but a world into which a breath of hope has recently blown.

double digit days

left til Liam is expected - 95 to be exact, not any triple digit number. Somehow that makes his coming seem more probable and imminent - (and he probably weighs over two pounds. I'm not sure when they stop being micropremies, but two pounds is sure better than one pound but still, we have a while.)

Purchases made

I bought Liam an outfit for next Halloween - green courdoroy pants, spider socks, a darling little shirt with a truck full of pumpkins, an excessively soft orange hat. So Liam, you have to live now, and be here next Halloween, ya hear.