Getting My Girl

It was exactly one year ago that I found out that my baby

would be my daughter.

 

I remember it all so very well. The night before, I was so nervous. I was scared that something would be wrong with our baby, but at the same time I was thrilled that I would be finding out if our baby was a boy or a girl in just a few more hours. I remember the weather being just right for having the windows open in our house, and I kept hearing a strange noise, like a cat's meow. Strange, because we didn't have a cat. Denny was in the office on the computer and I asked him to look outside for the noise.

Sure enough, there she was. A black kitten on our porch. We had no idea where she came from or how she got to our house. We only have two neighbors and neither of them have cats. The closest homes that might possibly have cats living there were at least a mile away. But somehow she found us and I found myself in a fit. 

Black cats mean bad luck, right? Well, if you happen to be superstitious, which I certainly am not. But still, I couldn't help but think that this cat showing up on our doorstep meant something. She was a girl - did that mean that our baby was a girl? The baby which I was sure was a boy?

I found it hard to sleep that night. It was like the night before a vacation - I was so excited and I couldn't wait for morning, but I could not get my thoughts to settle down and let me get to sleep. When morning finally came I was ready to go in record time. Denny and I had planned to leave early so we could get breakfast. We ate at Sunrise restaurant, and when we got there we were disappointed to find out that they only had the breakfast buffet on the weekends, and that day was a Tuesday. Denny got an omelet, I got pancakes. I tasted his omelet, and normally I don't eat eggs, but there was so much filling that I could barely taste the egg and I actually liked it.

We finished our food and still had 30 minutes until our appointment which was only 2 miles away. So we sat. And we waited. And we finally left. I was driving. I knew the minute we walked in the door that we would be waiting a while. There were two other women ahead of me and the minutes just crept by like inchworms. One of the couples from our class came out of the ultrasound room with black and white pictures and the biggest smiles you have ever seen on their faces. They chose not to find out what they were having - they wanted it to be a surprise (they later found out they were having a boy). 

Finally there was only one person ahead of me and I figured I had about 20 more minutes to wait, but she was finished in 5. It was our turn. The ultrasound technician asked if we wanted to know the sex and we told her that we definitely did, and she informed us that she would save that part for last, after looking at everything else. She asked if we thought we knew and I told her that I had a feeling it was a boy.

I have always been able to look at an ultrasound picture and know exactly what I was looking at. So when the first image popped up onto the screen, I instantly knew what I was seeing: girl parts. The ultrasound technician immediately moved away from that area of my belly to find the baby's head. She didn't know that I had seen the good stuff. I tried to focus on the ultrasound, on all of the arms and legs and tiny toes, but my excitement was about to burst out of my being and I could barely stop myself from blurting out my secret. But I did stop myself. I could tell that she loved her job and loved giving expecting couples the big news, so I didn't want to steal her sunshine. Nor did I want Denny to know either - I let him keep on thinking that he might be getting a boy for a few more minutes. 

Finally - it was time! And then she couldn't get a decent look between the legs. I wanted to tell her that I already knew, but she persevered and pushed on my belly and the baby moved. Then our baby gave us a perfectly wide open view of her anatomy and it was unmistakable. At that moment, I lost it. I was a hysterical, crying mess. We were having a girl. I was going to have a daughter. I wanted a daughter so badly, but I didn't think that I'd be getting her this time around. Maybe it would be the next time, or the time after that, but no! I was getting her now.

She's Mommy's girl, and I'm completely wrapped around her teeny-tiny finger. 

I love my Emily Willow. 

The Journal Jar

Have you ever given much thought to your family's history, your heritage, your past? Have you ever wondered what it would have been like to be alive in the 1930's, in the midst of a Great Depression? I hadn't either, until my mom found the idea for a Journal Jar last year. She gave one to my Grandma for Christmas and since then she has spent hours upon hours answering the questions and writing them down in journals to give as Christmas gifts to her children this year. She writes so much that she put a desk in her bedroom because that's where she writes, and it was hurting her back to write on the bed. 

I got a sneak peek at one of the journals a few months ago, and let me tell you, it was amazing. There are stories about her walking everywhere she went because they didn't have a car, and how it was a huge deal when she once took a train to the city for a doctor's appointment. She writes about her fear of dogs that she's had since she was a little girl. She tells the story of how she met my Grandfather and their life together. She talks about being the oldest of 7 children and the responsibilities that went along with that at the time. 

There are good memories, funny tales, and sad stories that I sometimes wish I hadn't read. But it's who she is, and now we will always have her story in the pages of those books. Each book is a bit different from the rest; she isn't making exact copies of the first, but instead tailoring each book to the child for whom it is being given. She has also found that with each book, she remembers different things, things that she might not have put in the other journals. I'm just a little bit jealous (ok, a lot jealous) that I'm not getting one of those books. Not to belittle my Grandmother's relationship with any of her other grandchildren, but I've always thought that she and I were the closest, and I already know more about her than any of the rest. I guess it's because my mother is her baby girl. 


Because I have been so intrigued by my Grandma's stories, I've decided to answer the questions from the Journal Jar myself. I know that my memories aren't nearly as fascinating as hers, since I grew up with running water inside the house, electricity, television and a car, but I am going to write down my stories anyway. Maybe in 30 or 40 years they will be interesting to my children. 


I thought that putting all of this on the internet would be more secure (and easier) than writing it in a book. I guess I figured that a book could get lost or scribbled in or ripped or burnt in a fire, but we'll always have the internet, right? So I am keeping all of my memories over at Megan's Memories. I'm hoping that my answers will give you a better look into my world than this blog ever did.