Winter has somehow snuck up on me with the gradual creep of a shadowy fiend. My curse is alive and well, where every time I move somewhere that has a winter, that first winter is the worst they’ve seen in years. You’d think I’d have learned the lesson by now! The heat and sweat of summer held on until well into October, when a couple of friends from the island came to visit us in our new home. We had about a month-and-a-half to settle into our new apartment before they arrived, and we spent that time collecting furniture at thrift stores and estate sales, unpacking more of our things from the camper and turning our new space into a home. As with our move into our first apartment, it took us a little time to acclimate to the extra room, but it felt good to finally give ourselves permission to invest in a space with no immediate plans for departure.
The friends who visited were the first people to come see us in Arkansas. It’s not particularly easy to get to our corner of the state from the Caribbean and after some flight comparisons, they decided to fly into Memphis, about 4 hours away, where we agreed to pick them up and spend a long weekend together exploring the unfamiliar city. We spent a pleasant four days strolling the banks of the Mississippi, hanging out on the infamous Beale St, and eating some very tasty southern food (complete with gluten-free fried pickles, hushpuppies and fried catfish).
We caught some great live music in a dive bar where every member of the staff was some kind of character and one of the patrons provided as much, if not more, entertainment as the band. I can’t remember the last time Honey and I went out dancing. We used to go out all the time in the first years of our relationship, but I guess we’ve fallen into a rut. It felt so good to let our bodies go loose with movement and rhythm! On our last day in Memphis, we took a musical bus tour that blended local musical history and legends with live interpretations of blues and rock ‘n roll songs as we drove around the city. It sounds totally cheesy, but it was a rich and lively experience, and the perfect way to end our stay.
About a month into our change in residence, my coworkers found a stray kitten at the nursery. When Honey and I saw her picture, we both thought, “We’ll take her,” without a second thought. She was about five weeks old and very, very active. I didn’t sleep for more than a two hour stretch for the first few weeks. At night she would claw her way up our comforter onto the bed and come bite me to feed her every couple of hours. She insisted on sleeping on my head and resisted all our attempts at relocation or discipline. I would describe this stretch as a living hell and very nearly considered giving her away. Luckily, she grew out of this phase after a few weeks and Honey was smitten from the start so he would have reasoned me out of doing anything drastic.
We named the kitten Comet and she is turning out to be a very intelligent, social, communicative, and affectionate cat. She greets visitors at the door, loves untying shoelaces, has a terrible habit of eating my plants, and climbs on the kitchen island every chance she gets to see what’s happening in the sink. She likes tricky puzzles (like how to get her mouse out from under a clear plastic tub) and is entirely indifferent to any attempt to teach her better manners. All in all she has brought a youthful spirit to our household, and she’ll be an excellent mouser if we ever live in an old creaky house.
In early September, just a few weeks before we got Comet, we got a long-awaited positive pregnancy test. Finally, unbelievably, after what felt like an eternity of trying, I was pregnant! Our six-week ultrasound confirmed that everything looked good, embryo well attached, pregnancy inside the uterus, and a heartbeat—just the most amazing thing. Seeing that rhythm beat on the monitor made it all very real. We went out to brunch to savor our joy, and then we called our close friends and family to share our good news.
A week later, the nausea started, from the minute I rose in the morning, until after dinner each night. That lasted until Thanksgiving—about 10 weeks, progressing to vomiting every morning for the last 10 days. I actively hated this stretch of my pregnancy. The constancy of the nausea and food aversions made it difficult to enjoy any part of my day, until I lay down at night to go to sleep. Around week 12, I caught a cold while our island friends were visiting. The morning of their departure, sick, exhausted and profoundly nauseous, I tearfully cried to Honey, “I hate being pregnant.” He gave me a hug and very diplomatically told me to get over myself.
Once the nausea ended, and ever since then, I have experienced pregnancy as deeply enjoyable and approached the changes with a sense of curiosity and exploration. I have surprised myself by sincerely enjoying the way my body has shifted and rounded into new curves. I wrote to a friend that the fourth month marked a passage from the invisible to the visible, that it was deeply satisfying to finally have an external result to show for all of the internal processes that seemed so mysterious in those first three months. The baby also started to feel less alien to me around the fourth month, the energy felt different, more baby, less what the hell is in there?
Right before Christmas we found out baby is a girl, and on Christmas Eve I felt her move inside me for the first time. It was nothing more than a flicker, like the glancing slide of a fish against your skin under water. Now she kicks and dances like a frog, all jumbled action followed by deep repose. Honey has been able to feel her every night and he rubs and kisses my belly daily saying, “Salut, ma fille,”1 the way I imagine every man on the cusp of fatherhood from time immemorial has done and will do.
My parents, sister and nephews all came to see us for Thanksgiving. Between our road trip and my parents’ health we hadn’t all been together in two years. When Honey and I decided on this part of Arkansas, there was a direct flight from our local airport to one near my sister, but the airline has since cancelled that flight, so getting here from where she is in Florida is a bit of a hike. My parents drove up over two days and learned that, comfort-wise, three days is better! My nephews are always excited to go anywhere and even though the weather was colder than we’d hoped, we still squeezed in some outings with them.
Since we weren’t sure when we would all be together next, we booked a photographer for a family photoshoot, which we’d never done before. My parents joked that we were trying to get some pictures in before they croak, which is maybe a little true! The photographer got us all to crack up many times (admittedly not a difficult task). The solo pictures of my parents had us all laughing to tears (photographer included) and the boys got to see my stepdad’s very goofy side, which he often struggles to translate into English. The pictures came out ok, and they’ll serve to remind us of this special time together.
Last week I entered into my third trimester and mostly, I feel really good. My hips are shifting a lot and I’ve started PT at the clinic where I work to help with that. My boobs and butt seem huge (compared to what they were!) and I’m starting to feel a bit like a waddling duck when I walk. Baby is active, and will go long stretches doing her aquatic interpretive dances before resting. Honey is picking up my slack at home and starting to realize that in a few months we will have a real baby to care for!
It’s been a long road from my years of refusing to even entertain the thought of motherhood. Something that once filled me with terror and dread now feels utterly natural and I’m thankful for all the time I spent undoing my negative conditioning and untethering those fears. It has allowed me to access an impressive amount of joy, relax into this phase of transformation and look forward with eagerness at all that is to come.
French for “Hey, my girl/daughter.”
Love that picture of you, Alison and your mother. What a treasure. So happy for you as you go through this transition to motherhood.