12 June 2012
Dear Bean,
It's been two days since Papa and I first saw you.
Right now it's not easy to see that you are actually with us already, but you are. I have your first set of ultrasound images to prove it.
You are about 10 to 11 weeks old and about the length of my thumb. Someday you will read this and realise that during those weeks that Papa and I were wandering about Dublin and beyond, you were already with us.
And we had no idea.
It has become my joke with friends that during your first few weeks, you were able to get a taste of the best alcohol that Ireland had to offer. It was your Tita Kissa's wedding to Tito Darren.
On the Sunday before their wedding, we had several glasses of red, white, and rosé wines. "Several" because I have no idea how many times my glass was topped up, only that I remember getting so drunk that I'd immediately reverted to a very Irish accent. (That's what your Papa says anyway.)
The following day, we had a sip of Guinness, their most popular beer. We had another taste of the same four days later when we toured the Guinness Storehouse. And then at the wedding, we had two glasses of champagne to warm up. I think Papa was more sensitive to your presence because he kept telling me not to drink so much.
The last time we had a drink was when we went to the Old Jameson Distillery. We had one shot each of Jameson, Johnnie Walker, and Jack Daniels.
If you're already old enough to be reading all of this, I assume that you are also old enough to either already know what I'm talking about or research them yourself.
You're still so tiny but I find I keep touching my belly anyway, just about where I think you might be, to see if I can feel you moving. I can't yet but I try anyway. It will make me feel so much better once you're big enough for me to feel your every movement. Right now I have no way of knowing how you are and because you are my first, this makes me very nervous because I don't know how to tell if you're okay.
Well, me being me, I'm already planning your room. I can't say it was foresight that pushed me to make what will become the nursery a nice, neutral pastel palette--like Tito Darren said, all you will care about anyway is that you're loved, fed, and cared for--but your room is pretty much ready. I just need to move out some things that no longer belong there to make room for you and your things.
Tomorrow I go back to the doctor to ask some basic things about how I can take care of myself, as well as make and keep us both comfortable.
We can't wait to see you!
Love,
Mama
P.S. We've started calling you "Bean" because your Tita Jeju began referring to you as one, being the size you are now. I think the nickname will stick, at least until you're born.
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