Petey's Birthday Punkin Hat

Pattern: Kurbis baby hat from Sonnentaler
Yarn: Vanna's Choice in Terra Cotta and Kelly Green
Needles: size 7 dpn

Started this last night and finished this morning. The only mods were the yarn substitution, and the fact that I used size 7s for the whole project. I think it turned out adorable, and I plan to use the rest of the yarn to make one for Cali, too.

I finished it literally on the way to the birthday party (which, appropriately, was at the pumpkin patch) so there was no time for any good finished object photos, but this is a cute picture nonetheless.

Small Hands in the Dark

The power has been out at our house for almost 36 hours. There is a weakness in the cable somewhere, and they couldn't find where, so they finally had to put in temporary electric poles and put in cable above ground while they dig up the whole street to find where the problem was. We finally have power again tonight, but yesterday night it was out.

I don't usually sleep in complete darkness. There's usually a hall light on, so when I wake to nurse Cali (who sleeps in bed with me), it's in the half-light. Last night, though, it was black as pitch. When Cali woke in the night to nurse all I could feel were her hands feeling around at me. In a way it was a whole different experience, nursing her by touch alone, almost deeper and more present. I was completely aware of her little hand searching for my face and feeling my nose and lips in the dark. I could feel her solid, plump little body up against me, and smell the almondy scent of her head. It was almost like being pregnant again in a way, that unseen knowledge of another's presence; loving and mothering by touch alone. Her hand brushing my face reminded me so much of the slight fluttering movements I first felt in my belly that it made my heart ache. This time I have with her, as she is now, is so fleeting. The time I had when she was inside me, already gone. She grows more and more into her own person every day, and I love seeing her grow and develop, but I will always miss that time when it was hard to tell where my body stopped and hers began.

Things that have happened since I last posted:

1. I gave birth at home to a beautiful baby girl.

2. I learned what it feels like to have your heart live outside of your body.

3. I lactated through my scrubs at work and had to walk around with a big wet spot on my boob for several hours--let's face it, the strategically placed name badge wasn't fooling anyone.

4. I have completed not a single knitting project.

5. I have become completely fascinated with the French Revolution after reading a biography of Marie Antoinette.

6. I survived a deep and debilitating depression that reduced my life to fractured and scattered pieces.

7. I found the strength to begin to put the pieces back together, and began to build something much stronger, more enduring, and beautiful than I had before.

8. I cried a lot, and listened to my baby cry a lot. Sometimes we cried together.

9. I've developed a whole new appreciation for sleep.

10. I became a mother (something which, while resembling #1 on the list, is not the same thing at all).

Dear Baby

You have been growing inside me for seven months now. When I first found out you were in there, I thought I would write about you all the time, and tell you how wonderful it was that you were here inside me, and to be able to tell you all about what it was like when you were in my tummy. But even though I talked to you constantly, and was continually amazed by the little miracles that happened daily inside me, I did not keep my resolution of writing it all down for you. So today, the first day of the year in which you will be born, I thought I would keep a little bit of that original intention.

The first thing I want to tell you is how very much I missed you when you weren't here. It may seem odd that a person could miss someone they'd never met, someone that hasn't even been put into the world yet, but I did. I missed you so much it was unbearable at times. Even though there were times I worried that you would never get here, deep down, I never lost the sense that you were out there somewhere, my little spirit baby, circling around my life, waiting for the right time to be born. Your daddy and I used to ask your little baby cousin, "where's our baby?", and he would look purposefully up with his big blue eyes, just as if he could see you and that let me know that you were out there waiting to be born.

One day last summer, I found out that you were finally here, in this very universe, this very world, right here with me...inside me, in fact. I almost couldn't believe it. Your daddy and your uncle and your auntie were so happy that you were coming, and your Poppy was so excited, that when I told him he danced me around right in the middle of the bleachers at a baseball game! That's how much everybody missed you before you even got here.

The first time we saw a picture of you, you looked like a little jelly bean, and your heartbeat was so strong that we nicknamed you Thumper, and that's what we call you, even now that we know you are a little girl, and we know what your name will be. It's even more fitting now that you are thumping around inside me! What exactly are you doing in there anyway? The next time we saw you, you looked like you. We could see your little nose, and your perfect round head, your little toes like sweet peas lined up in a pod. This is what you looked like. I think it looks like you are rubbing your hands together gleefully thinking what mischief you're going to cause when you come out.



Now you're two whole months bigger than you were then, and you constantly remind me you're there by doing your special gymnastics inside. Your daddy likes to pretend you are a little intellectual wearing a beret, curled up inside my belly with an existential book and a chai latte, comfortably waiting until it's time to come out and tell us all the answers to the universe. But I know that, even though I have no doubt how smart you are, you are actually quite the athlete. Either that, or you like to do fancy yoga poses while you read your Sartre.

No matter who you are, the thing I look forward to most this year is meeting you, and being able to touch your skin and smell your head and give you kisses on that funny little nose. But I'm also going to enjoy these last few months of having you being inside of me, here but not here. You, but still part of me at the same time.

Love, Mama