Whew, Yay, Wow!

I should maybe have entitled this post "My own Groundhog Day". You know that movie with Bill Murray where he relives the same day over and over again? In his case it was a bad thing, but if I had to choose a day to live over and over again it would definitely be my wedding day. For the first time in my life, nearly everyone I love most in the world was in one place. It was such an amazing feeling to be surrounded by so many people who love and support me.

Despite the inevitable stresses in the lead up to the wedding, we could not have asked for a better weekend. From the moment we started the rehearsal, until we pulled away in the car on Sunday afternoon it was just such a happy time.

I'll admit I was exhausted going in. So many details kept in my head and so much energy expended in getting everything together took a real toll on me by the time Friday night rolled around. The rehearsal dinner was such a fun time. I haven't laughed that hard in forever and my stomach muscles (or current lack thereof) reminded me of that the next day. Toasts were made from the funny to the touching and a good time was had by all, I think.

Despite the month long rain festival in New England that lead up to the wedding, we awoke Saturday morning to sunny skies. We wandered over to the house from our suite at the Pleasant Point Inn, had some breakfast and then took a boat ride with Kat and the kids, my mom and Pam, the minister and her husband, Dave, Ben's best man. The kids took turn driving and Ben taught them how to do donuts in the lake (forever sealing his fate as fun uncle). Emily pulled me aside after to suggest that perhaps the next time we were all in Maine, we could do this again, but leave mommy on shore so they could do even more donuts.

The day did cloud up, but it never rained which felt, frankly, miraculous. The cloud cover kept the heat at bay and it stayed balmy, but not super hot, nor did it get chilly at night. We did photos before the ceremony at the house. Most of them were done on the dock which gave a great view of the lake and the mountains in the background. There was only one speedboat that went by, sending its wake into shore and causing the already high water levels to come up through the boards of the dock getting people's feet and, ahem, some flower girls' dresses a bit wet on the edges.

Ben and I drove ourselves to the church - all throughout, I had a very strong sense of wanting to stick with him. We were in this together, I felt and there wasn't anyone else I wanted to be closer to.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. I was very worried going in about standing for the full time. In the weeks leading up to the ceremony I'd had a few dizzy/nauseous spells when I'd stood for long periods of time. My sense was that it was mostly stress, but the pregnancy books say that in second trimester that can happen due to shifting pressure on blood vessels as well as sinking iron levels as plasma reaches its peak. In the week leading up to the wedding my belly had suddenly really popped and there was more baby there than before!

I had heels on my shoes, but decided if I stepped out of them up at the alter, I'd be in flat feet and have a better shot of getting through. It was fine. Until the musical meditation, when there wasn't Pam's voice to focus on anymore. As I listened to the Bach Arioso, I began to notice just how stuffy and still the air was. Not to mention the expansion of my rib cage that had occurred recently, made my dress snugger than I'd have liked. Breathing was not the easiest thing to begin with. So, I shook my knees a bit and my mom motioned for Kat to give me some water to sip. I did and it all finished fine. Until we needed to walk out and I realized there was no way I could get my feet back into my shoes... oh well, I walked out without them and Kat grabbed them for me as we left. What would a wedding be without a few Sarah moments...

The reception was just sooooooo much fun. The DJ was great, played exactly what we wanted. We did our first dance and about 30 seconds in, Ben asked me quietly, "why is it that we didn't choose a first dance that was only 25 seconds long?"

One of my favorite dinner moments had to be Kat's toast. There was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted her to be my maid of honor. Hearing her talk and the creative way she approached the toast, just made my heart soar. I realize that no one has had a huge amount of time to get to know Ben, but from the time we've spent with her, she could clearly tell why we were together and was able to capture so much of both of us in what she said. Plus, she had visual aides which were great.

I hope there are some shots of people in their finery with lobster bibs tied on, attacking their meals. It was such a sight to behold. The backdrop of the house on the lake and the surrounding woods just made for such a great setting. We had small pots of gerber daisies on each table, lending some brightness to each and the lights around the tent inside gave everything a nice glow.

I changed out of my wedding dress and into a simple, but very pretty Sarah dress early on. I wanted to breathe, feel like I could move and not worry about getting my dress filthy. That was perhaps the best move I made. We finished dinner, pulled tables back and danced for a few hours. at 10 o'clock, I was happy to say good night and leave people to do whatever they were going to do.

All in all, it was a weekend I will never forget and am so glad we have the pictures we do to preseve it all.

I'll post about the equally wonderful honeymoon that we took on the Isle of Palms in SC later. For now I'm just going to savor this for a bit.

My mom rocks

Not only did she make the ring bearer pillow, but she also made (with my godmother) the flower girl dresses (pictured above part way finished on Emily, who is standing on her tippy toes to simulate the 'heels' she will wear, also in need of the crinoline beneath to make it poofy).

We go up to Maine tomorrow morning and I am so ready to just be there, have fun and enjoy the weekend!

What is the definition of rock bottom, you ask?

Well, I can answer that question. It is a multi-part answer and goes something like this:

In early December of last year you buy 2 tickets to the June Pink Martini Concert in Boston.

In February of this year you decide to get married and find out you are pregnant.

In March you start planning in earnest for a wedding that is going to take place 3 months later.

Throughout the spring you cope with working full-time, dealing with first trimester of pregnancy and planning the bulk of the wedding, integrating into a new family, dealing with your own family and running a household.

The end of the semester rolls around and you start thinking about what you will do for summer income post the wedding and continue to plan the wedding, deal with a new relationship, a new family, your own family, work, and picking up more of the around the house stuff.

The week of the concert rolls around and it is the week before your wedding. You've had a few majorly serious conversations with your fiance, dealt with emails from people asking questions about the wedding, unexpected visits from people at your house, a hissing cat and no time to yourself. You are feeling more stressed than you ever have but this night out is a bright light. This is your favorite band and you are psyched to go, all else be damned.

You go to downtown Boston, park in the city, go out to dinner which runs a bit late and run to get to the show at the Opera House.

Only it is closed.

And the gate is locked.

You pull out the tickets, your fiance looks at them and looks at you and says,

"Uh, Sarah, the concert was last night."

And you, in your on the edge mental state, proceed to lose it in the middle of Washington Street in downtown Boston.

Bueller, bueller?

I feel as though I should have something witty or sage or interesting to share today. But, the God's honest truth is that I got nothin'. Instead, I'll recount some random thoughts.

I'm glad it is Thursday because that means I won't have to return to work until Monday and can put out of my head anything work related for a few days since I can't really retain much of anything at this point anyway.

On Saturday we have tickets to see Pink Martini at the Opera House. Ben's never been so I'm excited to share one of my favorite groups with him.

Tuesday I am getting my vocal cords looked at to see if there is any hope of saving my singing voice during pregnancy or if I just have to surrender to reflux until God knows when and maybe go back to singing when my kids are in college.

Um, yeah, I'm getting married in about a week.

I woke up around midnight last night and was so nauseous I couldn't fall back to sleep. I'm pretty sure it was all stress related. I so desperately just want to be the bride at this point and not the wedding planner anymore, but there is still work to be done. But, please, could someone else deal with the seating issues that have arisen? Must I do that too?

Why can the makers of graham crackers not put them in a re-sealable bag. They get stale when you can't close up the plastic wrapper and stale graham crackers are disgusting!

My employer may be laying people off tomorrow. It is bound to happen soon. The students are gone, the Crimson is no longer publishing daily papers.

I now have to stop writing so I can wrap things up here and go get my hairs did for the wedding.

Seeking the Eye of the Hurricane

We are in the final countdown to "W-Day". 10 days to go. I am frequently reminding myself that even if everything falls apart, at the end of the day we will still be married.

On Sunday I was awake at 5am, lists forming in my mind of all that needs to be done - confirmation calls to vendors, finalize the program, make the program, email a reminder to family about photos and rehearsal dinner, email guests with things to do in Maine. Lists have long been my friends, but this particular one has been a godsend. While I'd rather have had a few more hours of sleep, yesterday was productive because of the list.

One element I hadn't anticipated about my pending life is the dreams that are coming with the lead-up. Each night I seem to have a non-wedding related nightmare, followed by an anxiety ridden wedding dream. Last night right after I fell asleep, I dreamed someone broke in to our house and Ben and I watched her walk by our bedroom with a hammer in hand. It was one of those dreams that felt so real that when I woke up it took me a second to know if there really was someone in our house. Then I got up to be sure all the windows were locked. Often those dreams involve someone yelling at me loudly and then chasing me.

The anxiety dream du-jour involved putting on my wedding makeup. In an earlier post I wrote about the makeup expedition that happened in real life. In the back of my mind since that trip, I've thought how it would be smart for me to practice what they did so I can have a hope of recreating it when my mind is inevitably going to be elsewhere. Have I done it? Nope, but I think about it... Anyway, in the dream, I put on bright purple eyeshadow and then realized it wasn't where it was supposed to go on my eye. I couldn't get it off and then knew I was going to be late to the ceremony and potentially not make it to get married.

Clearly my brain has some issues right now with various fears and anxieties. I'm pretty aware of the wedding anxiety, mostly in the form of having time to get everything done and feeling as though I have no time to be present to what is coming. I don't want to get to the day and be overwhelmed by an emotional response because I haven't made time to process what is happening.

Yesterday, feeling hopped up on adrenaline from doing wedding things, I made myself sit for a few minutes to just breathe and then tried the visualization technique I use when leading up to a performance. I imagined myself in my dress, coming up the stairs from the church's lower level and then walking down the aisle with my Godfather. Lo and Behold, I felt my nerves rise. More evidence that I should be doing that every day to get ready. I'll try, I promise.

Experiences

It is fascinating to observe, as I have in recent days, things in a way that I haven't ever before. Particularly when those observations come to people and their behaviors. In an Alice Hoffman book I read the sentence, "We teach people, unknowingly and all the time, how we expect to be treated." I believe she goes on to say that we do this by the words we use, the situations we participate in and the circumstances we accept.

That sentiment frequently crosses my mind as I see those around me and the way they act. What message are they sending out about what they want in their life? How are they demonstrating their expectations through their actions and words? So much of that goes on, for so many of us, at a subconscious level. Not only do we reveal how we want to be treated, but in our choice of words and descriptions I think we also tend to reveal our true feelings about issues and experiences. Sometimes the listener is caught up in the tale and can be swayed on a subject, but really, if you can step back, the story that is being told reveals more about the person doing the telling and less about the issue they are recounting.

There can't be a person alive who hasn't encountered a time or two, or nine-hundred, in life when you are in a situation that isn't what you want for whatever the reason. What I find interesting is not only how people handle the situation in the moment, but also how it gets recounted. What details are focused on? Is it communicated with humor and ownership of one's role in the creation of the experience? Is the teller the victim in the story, now living as an angry or resentful person?

I think in the retelling you see whether someone is positive or negative, whether they own their part of prefer to play the role of life happening to them. Listen closely this week. What do you hear being said?

Kick it, girlfriend!

So, I'm fairly sure I'm getting kicked periodically by the girl inside me. It started a few days ago and sort of feels like a kernel of popcorn popping just below my belly button 3 or 4 times in a row throughout the day (like it just did now). Prior to this, I have felt lots of the buzzy business which I think must be her heartbeat as she moves out from under the placenta and comes near to a pelvic bone or some tissue that vibrates in response.

At first I wasn't sure. I think I was expecting the kind of kick a 7 pound baby would issue, not the kind a 7 ounce variety who is only 8 inches long might dispense with. It was so small you might miss it, but after the first time I started to pay attention.

Everything I read said sometimes it is hard to distinguish between early kicks and GI movement (read: Gas). Seriously. I admit to my fair share, okay more than my fair share, of the gassy business as Ben will attest to, but I can't say I have ever felt gas like this. In fact, I don't think I usually feel gas, it just exits when needed. Maybe once in a while when I try to be polite and hold it in, I might get a pain, but that's in a whole 'nother part of my body. Just another reason to not read much in the way of pregnancy literature I 'spose.

I hope this one just keeps on kickin' it in my uterus, but please, Baby Girl Speedy, try to avoid the kidneys!

Craft it!

...for some reason to creation vibe is on high alert in me. Making these little knitted goods is not enough. I'm having designs on a craft room filled to the gills with things I will make...quilts, sweaters, funky bags, hats and whatever else I can think of.

Right now to make something that requires my sewing machine I have to go through a process that involves removing everything from the dining room table (often no small task) to set up and then take it all down again so the table can go back to a space used for eating. We have a built in china cabinet in the dining room and several of the drawers are co-opted for fabric and notion storage. My yarn is currently bursting out of the yarn basket my mom gave me a while ago. I have a separate bag of all the knitting needles my grandmother passed on to me. It would be nice to organize it (another urge that is running on high alert on me - it takes much willpower to not have at Ben's closet).

Here are some ideas of things I'd like to make:

• Finish Speedy's sweater - should go fast, it is only 8 inches of knitting plus sleeves
• Finish the top secret wedding present
  
• A turtle hat for Casey's little boy, Jason
• A baby quilt for Speedy - using the butterfly pattern I've had for years but have been too intimidated to try to make.
  
• Some other baby quilts - I always have patterns floating around in my head
• I'd love to try making some little baby clothes because they look fairly simple and super cute
• We need a new throw quilt in the living room. The one I made in 1998 has been well loved and is very ratty

Just in case you are wondering this creation vibe isn't limited to crafts. I've been going through recipe books and seeing things I really want to make there too. At the top of the list if my grandmother's Oatmeal Molasses Bread. I have such strong memories of having sandwiches at their house in Laconia made out of that bread along with toast with peanut butter in the morning. For some reason peanut butter always tasted better at their house.

I realize the next few weeks are going to be largely about wedding, but after that, look out! I am going to go on a little spree, I can just feel it... I'll post pictures as I go....

A somewhat lengthy conundrum

So here’s the thing. I realize there are some changes to make in me. It’s a multifold issue, but has to all be linked. Here’s my best attempt at explaining it. First, I try too hard to manage my expectations. If I really care about something and want it to happen, I want to know it is going to work out. When I know there is a possibility that it won’t, I try to be realistic about what the obstacle is and manage my emotions so I don’t get overly attached to the outcome. Second, when things go right, it is really hard to just let myself go to that joyful place. I wait for the other shoe to drop. So few times in my life have things just been easy and worked out that I am hesitant when they seem to go that way. Third, I want to always be at the next place, not where I am in the present. As though being at point B in my life will be better than point A. The problem is Point B, just becomes Point A when I get there and I move on to wanting to be at the next Point B. Capice?

Case in point of all of this is my life at this moment. For years I have wanted to get married and have a family. For so long I felt like there was some kind of club that I wasn’t allowed to join, like there was some kind of invisible scarlet letter emblazoned on my chest, preventing me from having what I wanted. No marriage, no family, just me and the cat toodling along, doing our own thing. Now, here I am getting married, pregnant with a daughter and I find myself hedging at just being really happy, at being able to just go with the fact that the Universe is handing me, on a silver platter, what I have asked for lo these many years.

Now that the wedding is only 2 plus weeks away, I’m pretty okay with accepting it is going to happen, this guy is my guy and while it won’t always be easy, we are both committed to the marriage. What I do find myself doing is looking around our place and thinking ‘when we move to a house’ as though this isn’t just fine for now. Let’s see, cheap rent, great neighborhood, easy access to the city, plenty of space. Right, I really need to be in a house tomorrow….

With the pregnancy, I want so badly to have a healthy, happy baby. The genetic testing I had done showed a 1 in 10,000 risk for having a child with Down’s, no risk of Cystic Fibrosis, spina bifida or any other awfulness that can befall a human being. I am petrified of having a child with special needs. I’ve seen the demands healthy small children place on a marriage and know that our relatively new relationship will already be tested by the arrival of this child. Early on in the pregnancy, I managed my emotions knowing that I needed to get through the first trimester to be past the risk of miscarrying. Plus I felt so yucky joy wasn’t really on the radar screen. Then I realized we had to do all the genetic testing that has stretched from week 12 to week 17 and again I hedged at being happy to be pregnant because I am 35 after all and they beat into your head that horribly magical things happen to your lady parts at 35 so you better watch out.

At the ultrasound last week we saw our squidgy little one stirring up a ruckus in my uterus. All the parts are there, but there was also a little bright spot on her heart, indicative of a bit of extra calcium. We were told this was sometimes an indicator of Downs, but since my risk was so low to begin with, the nuchal fold measured fine and her other parts were all normal, it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. It did drop my risk to 1 in 5000, but that is still far better than normal for someone in my age bracket (or any age bracket for that matter). I did some additional research on line and discovered that it is also sometimes seen more often in skinny women because the ultrasounds are clearer. There were also several message boards on which women posted having had the same thing seen on their ultrasounds and not a one gave birth to a Down’s baby.

So all of that is good, right? But what am I doing? Managing my freaking expectations, filing away that I shouldn’t get my hopes pinned on healthy because ‘what if’. What-fucking-if. It is going to be a long 4.5 months if I keep this up. I know the way to go is to let it go – the energy of non western medicine tells me thinking positively and visualizing that spot on my daughter’s heart getting smaller until it disappears along with an occasional prayer to God to make her healthy is a far more productive way to spend my time.

There has to be some element of control that comes into all this too. I’m trying to acknowledge that no matter how much I manage my emotions, I can’t control the outcome, so why not just be joyful that I am getting what I have wanted for so long? That I can have happiness without contingencies and no shoe is going to drop changing all that.

I don’t know what the answer is as to how to change from this line of thinking and living, but I sure am open to suggestions. It would be nice to just let the happy things be happy, the easy things be easy and feel content just where I am for it is where I am meant to be.

One of those days

You ever have one of those days where you feel like you can't get started, nothing of substance occurs and you're kinda bored? That's me. Today.

This appears to be a day of doing nothing of substantial significance. I don't like those kinds of days. I did some yoga when I got up (after sleeping soundly from 10:20ish to 6:20ish (go me!), sent and responded to a bunch of piddly work emails, checked my list o' wedding things to see if anything critical needed to get done, read a bit in my newest book from the 'brary (Joan Didion's Year of Magical Thinking - heavy duty, but a good read), did more research on how to get a logo designed and reached out to some former students to ask for testimonials for my future website. I like a day where I finish projects not take mini steps to move them along. Today is not one of those days. I've spoken to exactly one other human being besides Ben today (a student who passed me in the hall). I don't like that either. Ben is fond of telling me I'm one of the most social people he's ever met and here I am in a basement with no humans around on a daily basis.

It is days like this where I begin to fantasize. Today's fantasy involves living in a house someday that will come with a craft space. A space where my sewing machine can be set up and left up on a table. A room with bins for fabric that are organized and labeled, yarn in containers and patterns all nestled on a shelf. I've always had a bit of an inner domestic goddess, but this pregnancy is making it really come out. I want to make things; clothes for the little one, hats for Ariana, my grandmothers oatmeal molasses bread. You name it and my fingers are jonesing to do it.

There are several projects I could work on today including Baby Girl Davis' sweater (deep pink bamboo yarn, sooo pretty - and machine washable), the super secret wedding gift for Ben, or a quilt for Casey's new baby. I could trek to another grocery store to see if they have yeast (how does stop and shop run out of yeast?) so I could make the bread. Yet, I can't get started on any of it for some reason, probably in part because they all involve moving the various projects one step further and I want something that I could finish up.

Perhaps I'll just stick to fantasizing for today and leave til tomorrow taking action and accomplishing.