Today is Monday. On Wednesday I am scheduled for a C-Section to deliver the two very large babies (are they still fetuses?) inside me. They're estimating over 7 lbs each. I know it's just an estimate, but it somehow makes me feel like all this struggle has been worth it. I can't wait to see how big they really are. And what they look like. And if they have hair.
A boy. I am somehow very stunned about having a boy. I'm going to have a SON. He's going to grow up and be taller than me and grow whiskers and become a man. That is really difficult for me to comprehend. We've decided not to circumcise. After doing some research, we just decided there was no great reason to alter his body so dramatically without consulting him when there are no immense benefits to him now or in the future. It seems like a fairly important decision to make for someone else. I hope he is okay with our decision! I guess he can always have it done later in life if he so chooses. He. Him. Boy. Penis. What? Still just can't grasp the concept. Will I treat him differently than I treat Maya and her new sister? Will I have to teach him different things? Will Marco? I can't wait to see if there are differences even from the very beginning. It's hard to imagine him being more wild and rough and wily than Maya. In fact, in utero, he's been rather calm. I can only hope one of these three will be.
Another girl. I love that Maya will have a sister. I hope they will be friends, great and true friends. I wonder so much how she will be different than Maya. She does seem active, but that could mean anything. I wonder if she'll be more delicate or more girly. I wonder if she'll care about her clothes are like dolls or want to be clean. Maya is still so little, so it's hard tell. I wonder how they will influence each other. I wonder how my son will fit into the mix.
It's interesting to think that we won't have the typical birth order going on - no one is the youngest of three. Maya will still be the oldest, obviously, but I wonder how being the oldest with two the same age is different than the oldest in a line of three. It will be fascinating to watch their development and see how that all plays out.
Well, it's nearly 4 PM, and I have just one more hour all to myself before I go pick up Maya and my parents arrive and Marco comes home...I know I won't be truly alone again for a long time. I won't have hours to sit and read and think and nap and watch TV. I'm going to be the mother of three kids. I already know how much personal sacrifice goes into being a mother, but now it will be all the more amplified. I can only hope that it really breaks down any residual selfishness I have been clinging to over these last two years. Yes, it will be tough, but it will be so good for me to learn to let go and just be present and to truly mother them. I think so often I am a mother part-time. I get frustrated that my own agenda gets tossed by the way side. I can't get somewhere as fast as I want or without some small disaster. I get annoyed at the messes and the whining and the "dealing" with a child. Yes, I'm human. Yes, it is normal to need to care for yourself and preserve yourself and your sanity. But how can I do that and also give them my utmost in patience and presence and kindness? How can I model for them the characteristics I want them to have? If I'm getting mad and swearing and slamming doors, they will do the same. If I'm eating poorly and not caring for myself, they will do the same. If I don't communicate with Marco well and articulate my frustrations in a healthy way, they will do the same. I basically need to mother my own damn self and figure out how to live in the way I want them to be able to live. That's not to say I have to be the perfect mother and never mess up - I've just got to deal with being human and the difficulties and heartache that come with being human with as much forgiveness and patience and as many deep breaths as I can.
The next few weeks are going to be tough. We're going to have a toddler and two infants and tons of family around helping. I'm going to breastfeed (hopefully). Marco really wants to do cloth diapers, and we are leaning that direction. I'm going to be exhausted and cranky and sore and frustrated and at the end of my rope in a way I may never have felt. I really want to look back on this time and not say, "That sucked." I want to look back and say, "I didn't know my own strength." I want to accept it. I want to be in it and at peace with it. I don't want to say, "This too shall pass." I want to say, "It won't be like this for long, so I better cherish it." I was watching Maya and Marco in the kitchen over the weekend. She was helping him make bolillos. I love to watch them together - the special relationship they have just between the two of them. He's so patient and teaching and doesn't get as annoyed as I do. He was explaining each thing and showing her how to do it. She was wearing her soccer clothes, and her hair was in the typically mad scientist way. And my heart was just bursting with the beauty of it, the preciousness of that moment. She just keeps getting bigger and talking more and doing more things. She won't be this age, this unencumbered by social consciousness, this innocent for much longer. I hope that her exuberance for life can stay and won't be crushed by all the pressures that come with friends and being a girl. I hope she keeps that "I'll show you" excitement about life. There is nothing that lifts my heart more than to hear her say, "Come on!" She wants nothing more than to have other people join in on the joy she has over life. She wants to share it. On picture day at school, before we left, she was hugging each kid. The teacher said she is so accepting and loving and makes the other kids feel so happy. I really hope that continues. I want to foster that quality.
Well, my battery is running low, and it is getting more uncomfortable to be sitting here typing. Hopefully I can get back to posting on this blog. I know there will be much to say in the coming months.
And then there were five of us...