29 weeks: Well, you can forget about us naming her Ellen

Months ago I tried to get on the Ellen Show for her Mother’s Day Special. I applied twice, but didn’t get selected. It was probably the pictures I chose for each entry. I thought they wanted a real, authentic depiction of pregnancy, but maybe the fat yoga pants, uncombed hair, half eaten bag of gummy worms, and bewildered expression on my face didn’t fit the look they were going for in their studio audience. You’d think I’d have tried two different photo approaches – perhaps included one where I looked calm and maybe a bit more clean -  but no, I just switched t-shirts. What do they expect? I’m almost 40-years old with the body and stamina of a pregnant 70-year old and the mind of a simpleton.

Honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve gone anyway. Back then at 14 weeks, I was still a mess of tangled thoughts and incessant worry, and the future didn’t look quite as bright as it does now, so really, who knows? (YES, YES I WOULD’VE GONE BECAUSE SHE GIVES OUT A LOT OF FREE STUFF)

The hardest part with all of that was I that wrote about my experience with Ligaya and how even with the loss of her, I still considered myself a mom. I wrote about how this new pregnancy was terrifying, but such an incredible blessing, and how I recognized that they were two different experiences.  Perhaps that was what sunk my chances. The show was for “first time moms”, and maybe I stressed too much that I was not a first time mom.

I’ve had to deal with this a lot over the past several years – “Do you have any kids?” It comes from every direction - random people that cross my path, or when having to fill out forms asking for the number of children I have, or with people I haven’t connected with in a long time. It’s all harmless, and while my initial reaction isn’t an immediate defensiveness anymore, or the burning urge to spill the contents of my broken heart over the phone to some poor Time Warner Cable operator, it still feels like a fine sprinkling of salt over an open wound.

I never deny the existence of my beautiful Ligaya, even if she is no longer here. I’ve had to come up with creative ways to explain myself, but I always acknowledge her in my heart and in my words.  Now, the only time I get ready to sharpen my shank is when well-meaning people say things like “It was God’s plan” or “She’s in a better place” or “At least you know you can get pregnant again.” Please…just stop. That doesn’t make me feel better. I would do anything to have both of my girls here at the same time.

Anyway, I’ve since stopped following Ellen on Instagram and Facebook (TAKE THAT, DEGENERES). Yeah, I’m sure she feels the weight of my absence. I’m just frustrated because not getting on the show just makes it that much harder to figure out this crazy ass baby registry! My God – there are so many things that confuse me…so many things that a baby needs, or doesn’t need. It’s quite overwhelming and it makes me want to punch myself in the face, but….

It’s also FUN, and it’s a HUGE improvement in my mental state that I’m even doing this. It means that I have hope – that I feel confident this is all really happening. 

Wow, the amount of stuff that’s out there is astounding though. Now I wish I had spent more time researching safety ratings on cribs and strollers and car seats instead of focusing on pregnancy complications, watching an incredible amount of TV, and creeping out the soccer players outside my window by pressing my face and big belly against the glass to get a closer look.

Nate offers a little help here and there with the registry, but he knows nothing about baby stuff either. He has two preferences for baby items – animals and the color white.  I’m just glad his flirtation with the Pokemon Go craze was brief so he can go back to helping me knock this out. Intrigued by the concept, he made ME (the person on modified home bedrest) download the app. Walking around in circles inside our house didn’t yield any Pokemons, so he took the game outside where he promptly gave up after walking around in circles out there for 15 minutes. Ain’t nobody got time for Pokemon. Or Hulu…or Netflix...well, there’s always time for those. Let's not completely lose our minds here.

Well, we’ve hit 29 and we’ve got a lot to do in the next few weeks. Time to get crackin’.

Baby Girl - your dad made me pose with this big bag of almonds he bought me from Costco....because these are the kinds of pictures we like to take. Hang in there, little pup.