Last week, while much of the metro was on Spring break, I went up to Minnesota for what could more accurately be called a “definitely still winter, spring doesn’t come for a while” break. Lucas and I had made a super quick trip up on Christmas day after the storm that shut down I-35. But other than that, I hadn’t seen my family in person for a while. Babú has been growing and changing, and so has my body. I had a kind of yearning to spend part of a week with my mom, to do some projects together, and simply to see and be seen by the people who knew and loved me first.
So we made plans to make it happen. Given the state of third trimester ankle swelling and fatigue, I try not to drive more than an hour anywhere by myself anymore. Dear Lucas agreed to ferry me up to the Iowa/Minnesota state line, and my parents met us there for the cargo exchange.
The rhythm of the week with my folks was gentle. They are busy retired people. When they were delivering Meals on Wheels or tending to volunteer duties for their church, choir, or Rotary Club, I was napping or knitting the baby blanket I’ve been working on or searching out recipes and assembling a grocery list for the freezer meals my mom and I put together while there.
There was also time to see some other cherished people from my childhood home. My almost-Auntie Dianne, the Le Sueur public librarian for about the first 37-years of my life. A New York transplant, she married a cousin of my dad’s, has a daughter 9-months younger than me who I grew up with, and is genuine and generous with her passion for people, life, and books. We swapped stories over tea at the local place and she shared that the gift and challenge of the last few months of pregnancy is that you get so uncomfortable that you find yourself longing for labor. I’m not quite that uncomfortable every day. But babú is getting big enough now that, on the days they scrunch up real close to my stomach or start doing somersaults and jumping jacks on it and I start feeling motion sick from the inside, I can imagine myself longing for labor. Just yesterday I felt their hiccups for the first time. It was adorable. And a little bit like invasion of the body snatchers.
One night we had dinner with my younger brother and sister-in-law, Dan and Erin. They live in the house my brothers and I grew up in and have been making needed changes and updates. It’s weird and great to see the little guy I used to coerce into my dress-up clothes with me being a grown up. We always surprise each other with the things we do and don’t remember from childhood. Lots of reminiscing and laughter.
L-R: Me with sister-in-law Erin and “little” brother Dan. When I sent this pic to Lucas, he said: “So much preggo!”
A probably ill-advised trip to the Twin Cities one day gave us the opportunity to have brunch with my Uncle Dave (we missed Aunt Cathy), and to spend some time with my older brother Josh and niece and nephew. Uncle Dave is my godfather, gifted at making sawdust with his lathe (and much more substantial and beautiful items, too), and a pretty great storyteller (read: bullshitter). He was angling for the login credentials for our baby registry so he could add tools and other items for Lucas, or maybe even for babú. I nixed the idea of a tiny working table saw being appropriate for a baby.
Josh was working from home while his kids were on spring break. So we were able to hang out for part of the afternoon with them, visiting, playing games, learning about what the kids are up to in school and with music and sports. The 11-year-old trounced us all in a history game. The 14-year-old wowed us with the short documentary she made for school. I showed I still have some skill and speed with the favorite family card game Nertz. And when the rain started to turn to snow and the temperatures started to drop and Dad started getting nervous, we got on the road back home. We missed seeing my sister-in-law Beth (jury duty, shmury duty) but trust there will be other opportunities soon.
L-R: nephew E, me, and niece L. These two have been waiting soooo long for a cousin! 11 and 14 years respectively!
It was a week somehow simultaneously filled with a lot and very little. Time stretched a bit. I got to ask my mom a lot of questions about her own pregnancies and labors and postpartum periods and to hear what both she and my dad remembered about the first days home with new babies. And I got to see and be seen. Big belly and all. Witnessed by the people who knew and loved me first. A kind of blessing on this liminal time.
Though it may seem like a simple thing to truly see someone else, the effect is profound. I pray that you have the ability to witness or be witnessed this week, to see or be seen. Through eyes of love.
Much love,
Lindsey
Your storytelling from speech competition in high school comes through in your blogs. So much fun to read. Thanks for what you write.
It’s been a quiet week without you, my dear 💕