Nope, no baby yet.

Fires are smokey

Our five year anniversary was gentle and slow.
We saw Wanted.
We ate dinner at La Toque.

I really wanted Wanted to be better than it was.
Wanted Wanted.
(I think that was the theme of the day.)

Hard to pay attention with crushing contractions every five minutes.
Left the theater and went out to the bench outside to breathe.
The manager looked alarmed.
I was thrilled.

After the movie, James and I decided to continue on to our dinner.
Dinner was very fancy.
I supped excitedly through contractions.
My favorite dish was the scallop with squid ink tapioca.
I liked the sausage-stuffed Morels as well.

The contractions continued and got fiercer.

After we got home, we called the doula. We did this in between me gripping the table and breathing and gripping the couch and breathing and working very hard to get to the bed and breathing and then gripping the couch again. Anna the doula told me to drink a glass of wine and wait for the pains to become a little more regular.

I packed my bag.
I drank that glass of wine she recommended.
I became mighty loopy.
You could say I was wasted.

And I fell asleep immediately.
And woke up at eight the next morning.
Not to have another contraction again.


Highly satisfactory wedding anniversary none the less. We love each other even more than we did five years earlier. Marrying James was the best thing I have done so far in my life.

Two weekends ago, James and I cleaned out the garage.
I found several Rubbermaid containers filled with journals from my twenties.
They were so sad. I was so sad.
I threw them away.
It felt really good to clean that out — the sadness, the job search, the real frustration at dating and work and my body.
(Plus, I’d rather keep as my life record.)

It made me realize how it changed right before I met James.
That year, life started to turn around, and just like that, he arrived.
My love, my love, my love.

I hope that you get that love in your life.
I want that for you more than anything.

(Except to give birth to this baby, I might want that a little bit more.)

Updates, schmupdates

I am gigantic.Still no baby.

The doula-lady says that I don’t sound nearly ready enough to have the baby come out. I guess I’m supposed to get really, really miserable first. Keep your peepers peeled!

See, my pregnancy seems to be following all the rules.

Seriously, 12 weeks of morning sickness followed by a fun and lively second trimester followed by a no more than mildly uncomfortable third trimester with textbook Braxton-Hicks that come at the same time and same intensity every day increasing gently in duration.

Baby Hearn will probably arrive on the original due date, July 7.
La la la.
I also wait until the light changes before I cross the street even if there are no cars for miles around.

Plus, the doula is going to Las Vegas this week, so it’s in my best interest to keep baby cooking.
(How much do you love the thought of a doula in Vegas?)

Hilary and I, photo boothMy ladyfriend Hilary, whom you may remember from roommates past, gave birth to a gorgeous little man last week. Big, chocolately snaps to the happy new parents.

Apparently, Hilary and I needed to gestate at the same time as well as live together for several years, move to the west coast at roughly the same time and instant message each other for the majority of our twenties.

I’m so happy for her.

Still wrapping up the work.
Still frantic nesting.
Still enjoying all the last babysitter-free date nights with my husband that we can cram in.
(We saw Indiana Jones, ate Tex Mex and shared a banana split. Damn, it’s fun being a grownup.)

Here are my five latest favorite things on the internets:
Thus Bakes Zarathustra
Hillbilly Please
Hostess with the Mostest
Oh Happy Day
Plum Pudding

La la la

Kitty NipplesLa la la, I wrap up my projects for my clients during the day.
La la la.

La la la, I put together furniture and dust it.
La la la.

La la la, I give away the things that don’t define me anymore.
La la la.

We could keep doing this for a month.
We could keep doing this for a day.

We wait with one hand on the increasing contractions and one eye on the clock.
We wait while practicing our breathing.

When the time has come, you’ll be the first to know.
When it’s time, we can’t wait to tell you.


Yep, me and you both.
It could be another month.

Could be tonight.
(Well, probably not tonight.)

But I’m having some of those fierce prep contractions. So it feels like it could be tonight.
(Well, probably not tonight.)

After all that smoke about how mellow and calm and gowiththeflow I have been lately, I had my first pre-baby panic attack last night. Woke at 3:52am, freaked about my clients, freaked about the to do list, freaked about college tuition and babysitters. Tossed downstairs on the couch whilst focusing on certain doom.

I don’t deserve to have a baby,
I just am not responsible enough to raise a child,
I don’t have enough money,
I don’t have enough love,
I am not enough to have someone need me like that,
I can barely email people back, who do I think I am?
I don’t even contribute to my 401K

And so on.

And so I breathed through my nose and exhaled through my mouth and asked the universe and the outside and everything around for some,

And in came a picture of my mate, and my mom, and my sister and my friends who support me

I’m being silly, I know that.
But that panic was real, and I need to face it head on dead on.


In other places, I’m having fun putting together a family tree for the nursery wall.
I’ve been elbow deep in photos of family and sketch sessions.
I’ve been elbow deep in work.

And I appreciate all your help.

Control it.

Mom and Brad with lunchIt was so nice to be with my mom during her visit.
We chatted and gossiped and caught up and she gently put her hand on my tummy to quietly say, “Hi Baby,” or “Good Morning Baby” in a way I don’t.
(I’m a little more rough. I think I shake my baby about.)

In talking with my mom this past week about life, it is scary to see how afraid members of my family are of me.
Am I that rigid?
Have I always been that demanding?

She took me to lunch and the new Whole Foods.
The new Whole Foods is.
Well, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

She took me to Target where we purchased those things that make newborns easier.
Bath tubs.
Tiny t-shirts.
Sleep sacks.

She said I wasn’t as bad as I used to be.
That I seemed less uptight, less in control.

I’ve just heard so much advice about having a baby that it seems like there’s no use in trying to control things. There’s only use in smiling and enjoying the precious few years you have when they’re young. They have their own personalities. They’re people on their own. Nothing I can do will boss that around. Nothing I can do will control that.

Guess that advice has crept into other places in my life.