Waiting for Twinkle

So today is Twinkle's due date, and it seems like there is a ton of anticipation in the community. I am restless waiting for this child that I feel like I have been waiting for for so long, far longer than the nine months that this one has been growing in my belly. I have been wanting a second child for a long time, but my longings were met with real comments from my husband that we were too poor, and that Malcolm was too young for another one. Both of those were probably true at the time, but when this little one started to grow and we were settled into a decent house, Malcolm was almost four, weaned, and starting to become independent and I was 36, I thought now is my shot. I am not letting anything in the way of having this baby. So I fought to get Medicaid since my insurance had just ended , settled into a new job, and continued my grad school application, but I felt better because I just felt our family would not be complete without one more.

Frankly, I am totally privileged to be able to make that choice at all when so many Black women before me could not. So I feel like I have fought like hell for this baby, and now I am waiting and waiting. Text messages are streaming in, facebook is lighting up, people from Colorado are calling my mother, and Malcolm keeps talking to my belly telling this baby to come out. There have been contractions for weeks, the mucus plug is gone, and still nothing. My water won't break. Geoffrey is being very African. He says, "Only in America do women expect birth to work according to the numbers on the calendar." But I want my baby, feel guilty for having time off to care for someone that does not want to arrive, am struggling to hold onto my belief in natural childbirth, and am increasingly tempted by the nurse midwives offer of pitocin.

I have told everyone to stop asking for status updates every fifteen minutes, and am really beginning to see that this child must be a girl because it behaves much more like me than its brother. Geoffrey was a month early. Malcolm was a week early. I was a month late (after three attempted inductions of pitocin, and the birth resulted in several longlasting complications).

Twinkle, dear one, we soo want to see you and behold you and know who you are. The community waiting for you is full of people from all around the world, the US, various parts of Africa, Russia, Latin America and more. We are mostly progressive and deeply committed to healing this messed up world which previous generations did not manage to put straight. WE desperately want to see you and shower you with love from your big brother, mama, baba, grandma, uncles, aunties and more. Please, please come soon! We are waiting, but we do know that you know your time more than any of us. I will try to honor your choice about when to arrive and wait in anticipation of hearing your voice. We all love you already. Our family is held up by so many hands that even if we fall a while I am sure that it shall be into an embrace. Please dear child come!

Rite of Passage: He is a Big Boy Now

Wow! this week was definitely about rites of passage for Malcolm, and for mama too. For a couple of weeks now I have been having Braxton hicks contractions so we expect our little Twinkle star to arrive any moment. In fact, I expected twinkle long before now since Malcolm arrived at 39 weeks, and my due date is in two days. However; one thing that we have all learned in this process is that Twinkle is not Malcolm.

So during this time, Grandma arrived, and Malcolm got to go to his promotion ceremony at Mountain Valley. This was a good experience for him, and I think that it was important for him to move on when the other big kids that he grew up with there moved on. After the ceremony, they had a pajama party at school, and he decided that he wanted to spend the night there with his friends. He had wanted to go last year but then backed out when he realized mama wouldn't be sleeping there too. This time he hardly gave me a second glance. I can tell that he had a great time.

While he was sleeping over, I lost my mucus plug (while watching "Capitalism: A Love Story" with all the adults in the family) and thought for sure that this was a sign that labor would start in the morning and we may have to pick up big brother early. "Maybe this means I am carrying a little activist? " I thought. No such luck however; because in the morning there was not much happening with my body except anticipation, and tiredness I kept sleeping.

So Malcolm came back home for a couple of hours and then was off to one of his best friend's birthday party. When Uncle Nathaniel picked him up around 4:00 he fell asleep in the car on the way home and slept until the next morning for about 15 hours all together!

After that, we had a mellow day and then Grandma and Malcolm conspired to get him a Big Boy Bed. We had been reading about big boy and big girl beds a lot in all the library books we got about having a new baby brother or sister. To my shock, Malcolm said that he would love to get a Big Boy Bed, and we were off to Ikea and he has been sleeping in it the last two days. I miss my baby boy. It seems like a lot of development jumps all at one time, but I guess that is how growing up is, and it really was like a rite of passage weekend. Reminds me of when the young men were kidnapped from the villages in Africa and taken off from their mothers homes to become men. Still he is only 4! But definitely not a baby anymore-so Twinkle come on I have milk and love and empty bed for you!