A whirlwind of change

 

  There are days when I marvel at the brain’s capacity to compartmentalize what seems like a million unrelated things, hold on to a to-do list a mile long and still keep the body functioning and healthy. In the last few weeks, I pushed my little brain to the max. I was under two stressful deadlines for school and one deadline to complete a post-graduate fellowship application. This, plus school would have been manageable if it was all I had to do. However, the timing also happened to coincide with the weekend that my mom was moving into her new house nearby, the same time that my midwife appointments started being scheduled every two weeks, instead of 1 month, and our birth class started meeting once a week.

The first challenge of the last few weeks was to meet the deadline to submit an application for a two-year, post-graduate fellowship. I had spent the summer brainstorming a project proposal to submit to a competitive non-profit fellowship grant program. If I am accepted, I will be funded to work for two years at a local Sacramento non-profit implementing the project I designed. The gist of the project goal is to aid in dismantling the pipelines that funnel undocumented immigrant juveniles in Sacramento and the Central Valley through a harsh juvenile justice system and into deportation proceedings by providing direct legal services to undocumented youth probationers and education to law enforcement. It would be a real challenge but an honor to be selected to carry out this project. But I won’t know if I am selected until the spring. In the meantime, I still have to pass my classes and try to graduate.

So after I got my grant turned in I had to focus on my school related workload for Moot Court and my Professional Responsibility class. Both the Moot Court competition brief and the PR midterm were on Monday. I loved writing the brief, because I am nerd and love to write, but I wish I had had more time to devote to it. When I am writing briefs, I like to spend time crafting the most persuasive arguments, down to each precise sentence. Even though my partner and I spent probably 48 hours in the library between Thursday and Monday night (no joke, we practically lived in the library), at the end it still felt so rushed to get all the formatting done right. We didn’t have time to make it perfect. Perhaps we didn’t make it perfect, but we did get it done. And somehow in between the writing and editing madness I managed to study for, and probably even pass my PR midterm. It was not the easiest week I have had in law school.

Then, in the midst of all this madness, my mom was making the biggest (and only!) move she has made in the last 17 years. She packed up her house in Santa Cruz and moved up to Sacramento for a new job and a new adventure. Mom always said that when I have kids she wants to be nearby. She values having a close-knit family and wants to be involved with her grandbabies on a regular basis. She had been talking about moving up here since Tim and I came to Sacramento and so, when we told her that we are having a baby in December, she started planning for the move. It has been a hard transition for her to leave her hometown, her job and her friends, so, over the course of the last few weeks, I have tried to make it as easy as I could by helping her move and get settled. Two moving vans full of furniture and boxes and innumerable trips to Target and Home Depot later, she is fully moved in and has her bedroom, kitchen and bathroom mostly unpacked. It is a beautiful house, so cozy and welcoming, and it is only 127 steps away from my house (Tim counted). We are going to have a ton of fun as neighbors!

As if all this weren’t enough, Tim and I have been attending a natural childbirth class once a week for the last five weeks to get ourselves ready for the arrival of baby Tibbs. Although, ‘attending’ isn’t really the right word since we are hosting the class at our house. It actually works out pretty great. Three other couples and the instructor come over on Monday evenings for a few hours and we are enjoying the support group of other expecting couples and learning a ton.

Also, because I am 30 weeks along in the pregnancy, we have had more frequent visits with our midwife. Even in all the hustle and bustle, I love taking time to check in on the baby. When I hear the healthy little heartbeat on the Doppler, I remember why I push myself so hard. It seems crazy, since I don’t even know this little human yet, but I want so much to make a comfortable life full of opportunities for our baby. I want this child to grow up looking up to parents who work hard to make the world a better place in our jobs and take time at home to play, laugh, explore. And I want this baby to be surrounded by family and friends and a community to teach him/her their own skills and lessons. Even though we may have been in a whirlwind these last few weeks, things are starting to fall into place. 

A (soon-to-be) Father’s Journey: A Perspective on 27 Weeks

So it has almost been 27 weeks since Chelsea has been pregnant and been 23 weeks since she found out. It’s been a curious journey of ups-and-downs, sideways, and elation. When she first told me I knew it was true, but there was a strange disconnection. We had tried for so many months previous that the fact that it actually happened was difficult to wrap my head around. Chelsea wasn’t showing…it could almost be as if the baby wasn’t there.

The turning point, though, was the heartbeat. I had been to the previous prenatal appointment, I smiled and listened attentively taking on the mantra, “You’re just having a baby. You’re just having a baby.” What baby? But it was that second appointment that threw my world for a loop. The midwife took the Doppler and searched around Chelsea’s abdomen, there was the strong whoosh, whoosh of Chelsea’s heart and then, finally, the swiftly beating heart of another being. They beat in counter syncopation: Chelsea’s steady and strong whoosh, whoosh while Bibb’s heart beat in a rapid whish, whish, whish, whish. For every beat of Chelsea’s heart the baby’s beat twice. It was stunning. My jaw dropped, my heart exploded with pure joy: there’s someone in there! Then, of course, all my insecurities and inadequacies came to the forefront of my mind, but they were beat back with words of encouragement from Chels. Moreover, the utterance of the mantra “You’re just having a baby. You’re just having a baby…” took on new meaning. I mean, we are having a baby!

We kept it secret for two more weeks, and then came out to our friends. (Who, most, of course, knew it was happening already. We are not the most furtive of people!).

This is where Chelsea’s story diverges from mine. Bibbs continued to grow and after a few weeks Chelsea began to feel Bibbs moving around. She’d break out in short outburst of “Whoo! Whoa, baby!” and I would curiously look at her and ask “Is everything alright?” She would respond, “Yes, Baby is just moving around a bit.” At this statement I would eagerly place my hand on her stomach and, in vain, feel for the baby, but to no avail. For Chelsea the baby has been real for a long time. She came to that understanding much quicker than me. She began to feel the baby move on a daily basis and it just kept getting bigger and bigger. For me, though I knew the baby was there, the physical contact was lacking. I could not feel Bibbs as Chelsea felt Bibbs. All I had was the existential awareness that Chelsea was growing before my eyes and every week looking more and more pregnant.

Another turning point: feeling the baby move. As Bibbs continued to grow, I would constantly attempt to feel for Bibbs.  One particular night, we were lying on our couch, doing our routine of watching a few of our shows before we went to bed when Chelsea said, “Bibbs is active tonight, come feel right here.” She guided my hand to spot right above the waistline of her standard yoga pants. I felt. I concentrated. “Is that it?” I felt a small pulse. “No,” she replied, “I think that’s my heart.” But I was patient and kept my hand there. Something very light pressed against my hand. A tingle journeyed from my palm and exploded throughout my body.  Euphoria. I couldn’t help but smile. It was such outlandish feeling, this pressure from Chelsea’s belly to my palm, but it gave me such a euphoric sensation. That’s my baby!

I wasn’t able to feel Bibbs as much as Chelsea could after this point, but as the weeks progressed I felt Bibbs more and more. I was constantly reading to Bibbs and Chelsea before we went to sleep, and lying next to her, I had one hand on my Ipad (where the book was) and one hand on her belly. As I began to read aloud, Bibbs would move and I would feel the kicks or punches or whatever part of the baby was pressing against her at that instance. Also, I would come home from work and as I was telling my tale, the baby would be active as if welcoming me home or as if baby was excited to hear my voice. At this moment in time the baby can hear both of us talk. It’s a profound realization.

I can feel Bibbs every day now. I can place my hand on Chelsea’s belly and feel the outline of certain parts of Bibbs (what part? I have no idea!). In the morning, as I am about to get out of bed and ready for work, I can place my hand over Chelsea’s stomach, and while she is asleep, feel the baby move, as if Bibbs is saying good morning just to me. Every time I experience even an inkling of that movement it reminds me of the amazingness that is to come.  It not only fills me with this sense of bliss but it also fills me with the awareness of our responsibility.

And even though there is still a physical barrier between us, the emotional bonds have already been formed and solidified. I can’t wait to meet this little person some 12 or 13 weeks hence!

What baby? Bibbs, of course!