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Wed, Feb 20, 2002 11:40 PM
17 weeks B.C.

Theory is rapidly becoming reality. Cho brought home some baby clothes tonight…Gandma Rosa bought you some neutral green ‘onesies’. I’ve seen plenty of baby clothes before, but these ones are for you! Then I felt your strongest kick yet tonight. And we watched your first video (that cute lil’ ultrasound number of a couple weeks back).

This is a nice, easy way to get used to your daily presence in our lives.

Cho asked me tonight if it would be weird not just being the two of us anymore. She’s got a point…it will be weird to be a threesome, not a couple. Then she asked me if I’ll still pay attention to her. Funny, I was thinking of asking her the same question.

What wonderful issues to be going through. Really. I feel so ordinary, so human, and it’s strangely reassuring. I’m doing what people do when they grow older. I’m having a kid.

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Mon, Feb 11, 2002 11:40 PM
18 weeks B.C.

We communicated tonight, you and I. I put my hand on your belly. You kicked. We’re talking!

What an exhilarating moment. How odd to feel a person kicking around inside someone! How scientific and biology-ish of us human beings to create these little creatures! How weird! How cool!

Good kicking, by the way. Them’s some soccer legs. Not that you’ll have to play….Daddy will merely encourage the game.

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Sun, Feb 10, 2002 11:39 PM
18 weeks B.C.

A bad father already. Sheesh…I can’t even find 10 minutes to say hi to my own progeny. What a bastard. Well, I’ll set aside money for your therapy sessions now. Feel free to blame me for all the future wrongs you may experience. “I remember when Dad ignored me while I was in the womb…”

It’s been a chaotic, if wonderful, last month. We’re now very confident that you exist. Chona’s up 17 pounds, she’s being recognized as pregnant pretty much every time we go out, and she’s even feeling you kicking around inside. I haven’t felt you yet, so I’ll ask you kindly to kick Mom’s kidney as hard as possible around 10:30 tomorrow night. Are you busy? I didn’t think so.

God, I hate clichés, but your Mom has taken on a glow. It’s not that she is more or less attractive; it’s like she’s become something holy, like a goddess of fertility or a Buddha or something like that. It’s like you’re looking at nature and something larger than just a person.

(She also snores more than she ever has; will you tell her to keep it down?)

So we went to the baby store and pretty much outfitted you for those crucial 18 years until college. You are, or I should say, will soon be, the proud owner of no fewer than 3 car seats, 2 strollers, enough plastic nipples to keep a litter of puppies happy, a Diaper Genie, and about 146 other random devices that you’ll most likely chuck across the room. Mom is gearing up for some schnazzy sheets and duds. You’re lucky she’s so hip.

You’d be amazed how much advice people have about you – things you’ll like and won’t like, how you’ll respond to stuff, and, of course, the Dangers. These people don’t even know you! The nerve!

Soon we begin classes on how to interact with you. Classes about boobs and breasts and poop and Pampers and all that stuff. Congratulations – you’re the first person that has required professional training before I could meet them.

We saw you again…in fact, now you’re on video. You seem to be enjoying your stay at Hotel Uterus, legs crossed, sucking on the cord. Enjoy it now, babycakes. Life is good when you’re surrounded by fluid.

Peace. Out. Squeeze Mommy’s bladder for fun, will ya?

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