In the first weeks of my pregnancy with O I was terrified. Our first pregnancy had ended in miscarriage at 11 weeks, a blow I never even considered, which left me blind-sided and crushed. But here we were again. The stick said we were go, but instead of feeling elation, I felt scared. My OBGYN (the lovely man that he is) scheduled us for an unnecessarily early ultrasound to ease my nerves. In the throws of heartache you sometimes grasp for routine or even superstition. If I sleep just so, or eat this one thing, then just maybe…. For me it was tracing a tiny heart around my belly button. That’s ridiculous! I know that. But I did it all the same and it made me feel better. Like I was channeling all of my love and good vibes into that tiny heart. I was Murtaugh willing it to Riggs. Partners. I did the same throughout all three pregnancies. Why rock the boat, am I right?
So a seven week ultrasound is kind of jokes. You drink a tone of water, endure what has to be the most invasive of ultrasounds, all for a marble! He was a marble. A round, motionless, grape. But he was my marble. Our marble. And seeing him didn’t make me feel better. Seeing him made me that much more weary. Now if we lost him, I knew I’d be destroyed. I could see him, and he was real.
Call it fate, credit the superstitious hearts, but he made it! 11 (long) weeks passed and my nerves began to settle. I could breath a little easier (for a few months anyway, before his long legs began to encroach on my lungs!) He grew. By the next ultrasound he looked like a tiny Casper the Ghost, with his little ears sticking right out. (Those ears!) And then again, those crazy legs kicking as he turned his back on the ultrasound as if he was already sick of the paparazzi hounding him.
5 years ago I was so ready for him. I never assumed that I’d have all the answers. I always knew there would be hard days, and sleepless nights. I was ready though. Armed with all of the love I could carry, and there he was, tiny grumpy old man face and all, wanting nothing more than to snuggle into that love for warmth.
Who is O now? My little OllieMonster?
He’s his father’s hands and feet, and height, and ganglyness. He’s my lips, and brows, and freckles. He’s high-kicks and even higher jumps. Running, twirling. His imagination and love for make-believe fills my heart with joy. He’s a born story teller, and his cars are on constant adventures. He loves superheroes, lego, music, and is a total petrol head! (No one was more devastated than him by Jezza’s actions. You try explaining to a freshly-minted five year old why he can’t watch the new episode of Top Gear he was promised! He was far from impressed.) He is a most wonderful and caring big brother (most of the time), and an amazingly loving son. He loves apples, popcorn, broccoli, and licorice. He doesn’t like having his sleeves rolled up and is weirdly flippant towards mashed potatoes (which I just don’t get because they’re so delicious).
Book: The Book With No Picture by BJ Novak (if you haven’t read it with your littles please do. It’s hilarious)
Toy: Lego Batwing that he got for his birthday. (Also The Lego Movie videogame on xBox. He’s actually super good, and we finished the whole game together, E helped as well.)
Food: Broccoli! The kid loves his “trees”.
Snack: He’s really into popcorn with cinnamon right now.
Colour: Red. Always. Such a little Aries;)
Jam: Everything is Awesome (From The Lego Movie) by Tegan & Sara and The Lonely Island
Show: Team Hotwheels (There’s only one episode on Netflix and I have it memorized)
So that’s The Monster! I am grateful everyday for him (even when I need him to play in his room quietly).
dem legs though!