Almost-Mother's Day

It's been a long time since I really celebrated Mother's Day. For the past four years without my mom it's been hard -- a reminder of what I've lost.

But this year was the start of something new for me, my identity as a mother and not just as a daughter and granddaughter. Even though the baby is not-quite-here yet, I am already her mommy, and she is already my child, my daughter. There's just so much to look forward to in that.

L sent me lovely flowers, and informed me via text message that the baby helped pick them out. I'm not quite sure how that works, since I'm fairly certain that the only one she communicates with is me, and it's through kicks and punches.


Over the past few months, with the pregnancy, my mother has been back in my dreams, a lot. I mostly just remember bits and pieces of them, but I have a vivid recollection of one dream from a few nights ago. Mom and I were arguing about the baby's name, and who to name the baby after, and the argument escalated until it ended with me telling her that she couldn't tell me what to name the baby, because she was dead and I had to name the baby after her.

Sometimes I wish I just had sex dreams like everyone else.

The Nameless Mass in My Wife's Uterus

What is this thing?  For the first few weeks we called it Zygote LaRue.  But the word "it" seems so impersonal.  So "it" was quickly replaced with "she."  That is not to say that there was any indication of sex, but the whole XX vs XY thing seems to suggest that we all start out as female; thus, "she."  Soon after this, we noticed a trend among recent new parents:  it seems that all of our friends and family have have had boys as of late.  Bucking the trend as we often do: "she" seems to stick.

A few weeks later, Zygote LaRue was appropriately replaced with Embryo LaRue.  We made this official by taking a peek at her via ultra-sound.  Sadly, she looked more like a chocolate-glazed doughnut hole than a person at this point.  Not just because of her spheroid shape, but also due to the horrible color contrast of the video monitor.

The magic moment for me was when we first got to hear her heart-beat.  She played hide and seek for a moment, and then performed her first composition which sounded a bit like a Slurpee Machine sloshing away at a perfect 160 beats per-minute.  Embryo is now a Fetus!  Dara quickly named her Cletus the Fetus, and the name remains.

Last week we had a formal ultrasound.  Cletus was quite the drama queen.  She kept raising her arms over her head like a 1940's movie starlet voicing "I do declare."  When it came time for her close-up profile shot, she promptly rolled over and mooned us.  Yes.  This is our child.  Indeed...

So...  Cletus the Fetus of the Oli-Rue clan is well.  Soon we will find out sex.  Then comes the hard part: A NAME.  My favorite suggestion so far came from Jennifer Browne via Facebook:
Lara Dance Oli-Rue.
Awesome...
For a boy's name, I am leaning toward Devo Lucian Oli-Rue.  (Dara says "veto.")