Some wind

It seems we are in TCCOR 4. They predict 3 will be declared tomorrow but that the typhoon will only deliver a glancing blow. (that is funny!  lol)
Lt and I have begun to settle into a routine. He remains annoyed I know more of the base than he does. I try to pretend I do not but he looks to my eyes and can tell. Even to look away tells him I know something he does not. To ease his annoyance I have taken to smiling at him and saying "I love you!" It seems to ease him. At the least he returns my smile and tells me he loves me though sometimes his smile seems.... forced.

He has become accustomed to breakfast too early in the morning. At the first morning he woke me at 0430. For those who don't know what time that is, it is far too early for this mother to rise. We have compromised. I will grudgingly rise at 5:30 am and prepare his breakfast. I do not do this because he is incapable of cooking. It is only that he is incapable of cooking without destroying my kitchen.

It is acceptable for me to do this for him. He repays very well. Lt is amazing when he massages my feet every night. I would believe he has attended school he massages so well. He has even painted my toenails. I believe I have not enjoyed a pedi as much as when Lt gives it. After all, the woman at the salon does not give my feet kisses. ;-)

Too, he applies cream to my tummy. I say it is because he believes there are enough scars and desires to see no more. He says it is because he enjoys it as much as I do. What is important though is not what I believe or what he believes. Only that he does it is what is important. I enjoy this time most. He is gentle and he speaks to Little One as he applies the cream.

Lt has always been loving and generous to me. I spent much time in choosing him. In spite of my close inspection of him I was not prepared for his attentions to Little One. It gives me an entirely new way to see him. To call him a doting father would be an understatement. I am surprised and think of what might have happened at sea to change him so. He was not this attentive to the baby at his last time home.

I am happy to see this part of Lt. If he is so caring of Little One after his birth as he is has been already, I have chosen very well the father of my child.

17 weeks

I am now 17 weeks. Little one is the size of a potato. I feel small butterflies during my day.

I have a picture.

I am amazed at what is occurring. I am also intimidated. Will I be a good mother for him? Most importantly, will I do what is needed or what is easy? There is no manual which is surprising. According to Lt the Navy has a manual for everything. Where do they keep the baby manual?

I receive advice from all directions. I must do this. I must not do that. Strangely, among all this advice, no one has said I should love him. I admit, this seems like such a basic thing to do one need not advise it. But as I see news of a mother who neglects her baby to the point it dies then cries she did not mean for it to happen, she was depressed, I wonder if this advice is not the most important to give.

If I do all things for Little One through love, will he not grow to a fine young man? After all, if I love him, will I not do what is necessary in spite of difficulties? It is my place to raise him. It is my place to ensure he knows he is loved.

If I love my son, will I not be alert for anything that may harm him? Even should it be me as the mother in Texas was to her children? I am sure to be alone again. Lt is Navy. He will sail again. It is only a question of when. Would I seek out assistance should I become a threat?

As a note, the tragedy in Texas would have a difficult time occurring on our ship. The FRG regularly inquires of the well being and needs of our crew's family. Even I have visited spouses. Husbands or wives being underway for long periods is not easy for some. It has not always been easy for me. But our FRG motto is "Aboard our ship we are family! We care for each other!" And we prove it daily.

I think of what kind of mother I will be. I hope I am as my mother (did I say that?). I swear now though, I will not say things that will embarrass my children in public, at the least intentionally, with the exception of "I love you." They will need to accept that I will say that in spite of their friends being present.

The sounds of 3 am

I was awakened to loud noises outside. It took only a short time to discover the source.

There are definite advantages of living in a tower. Even more so when your apartment is high in the tower and has a view of the ocean and port. Many people pay large sums to enjoy this view.

But as I have discovered this early morning there can be disadvantages. For instance, as I look to the port this morning I see much movement of tugs and a large cargo ship. This is very unusual. The bay is generally quiet at night with ships coming and going. Quietly. Tonight is the exception.

According to local radios a ship has entered the harbor and experienced a control failure (finally my husband's desire to listen to port traffic is useful). As a result their alarms were sounding and their horn was blaring a warning. Since it was sailing toward the Navy port, tugs were immediately dispatched to catch it. Now I look out and see the ship, under control again, surrounded by what looks to be 10 or more tugs.

Without the alarms and horns, the noise these tugs make usually is not noticed above all other background noise. At 3am however, this is not the case. There is enough noise to keep me awake. And Little One is not happy for it either! He does gymnastics on my insides as I type. Fortunately it seems the ship is almost tied to the pier so the noise should end soon.

Yay... four hours before my first appointment of the day. This interruption of sleep should make for an interesting day.

Thoughts of blessings

During my daily walk this morning I stopped at my usual bench to sit for a time and watch the harbor. It is this time I usually think of my day ahead and what I will do. This morning was different. My day ahead was not my thoughts but my days past were what I thought of.

I thought of my arrival in America. I had worked so hard to come here. Intel had recruited me from school but only after I inquired of them. I was so excited as I boarded the airplane. I thought only of good possibilities for me. But as the flight wore on, doubt entered my mind. By the time we landed I was so afraid. It is a fearful thing to be where there is no family and the language is not yours. The fear did not remain long but that is another story.

 I thought of my second family, the Bings, who have treated me as their own daughter from my arrival. Mother Bing has introduced me as her daughter from early days to now. Father Bing has seen to my well being.

 I thought of Heather, who greeted me at the airport, and the sister she has become to me. We have braved storms and sliding hillsides together. We have "hunted" together. Someday I will explain what our "hunting" was. We have laughed and cried together.

I thought of first meeting Lt when he was a Coastie on one of my frequent visits of the ocean. I thought of Lt's proposal. And our wedding. I thought of what I have in Lt. I thought of the baby that is ours. In all, I thought of how blessed I am. I could not help but cry just a little.

It was then Tammy happened upon me... again. She sat beside me making sure I was well... again. I assured her all was well... again.

She pulled me to my feet and we walked toward McDonald's chatting all the way. We have decided we will walk together every morning. Unless, of course, she has duty. Since Dorothy was surprised at seeing me with Tammy, I am only able to imagine Lt's thoughts of my daily walk with her.

I think it is good that occasionally one stops to remember good things of their life and to say prayers of thanksgiving for them.

What is the name?

I am now always asked if I have chosen a name.

No. I have not. I suppose one should begin considering possible names as soon as possible. Naming my son will not be an easy task. He is American and Chinese.

An obvious name is his father's name. It would be easier for him as he grows. But I also wish him to know of his Chinese family. Lt says it is my choice but that is a silly idea. He is our son. I will leave his first name to Lt. I will determine the second name.

It will be convenient for Lt. As a child, his parents called him by his second name only when he was disobedient. I believe we may do much the same with Little One. Since Lt ear is tuned to hear English, he will know when he is required since he will hear the Chinese name.

Perhaps not. I do not wish him to think the Chinese is what causes his correction. Why would I wish for him to avoid me if I unintentionally lapse to my native language?

His first name is likely to be his father's name. I will NOT call him Chuck! That is my final word. For his second name I am fond of Jia Li. It fits the calendar and goes well with his father's name. Mother and Father are sure to have their ideas.

I suppose there is no hurry. Lt and I will choose a name that is fitting for Little One.

You see?

It is as I said. Why must you doubt me? (this is written for Lt.)

Lt doubted me of it being a son. He cited his family stories and how his Papa was never wrong in these matters. His grandfather insisted I would give birth to a girl.  I have even received things for a girl. How awkward will it be explaining that the infant wearing the "Daddy's Girl" jumper is a boy? It will not be for me since he will not wear it when he is with me. Lt may be required to explain since Little One will only wear it when he is with Poppy.

It seems too, this pregnancy sharpens the edge of old memories. I thought of Fat Luey this morning. I could not help myself. I found myself weeping as if it had just occurred. I was not prepared for that. Poor Yuki did not understand though it seemed she did her best to comfort me. Leaving to the doctor was not easy since my vision was so blurry. I was eventually able to control myself and my eyes were mostly dry when I arrived at the hospital.

I am hopeful there are no more of these sudden weep sessions.

School has begun!

I am intimidated. I have not felt this way since my first meeting Lt's parents. Of course, it is enough for most people just to enter a doctorate program to become intimidated. Being pregnant only adds to the experience.

Little One was not thought of when first I decided upon my entry. That is my fault of course. Since he is now a reality, he must be considered. Advanced programs are not known for their patience. How will I accommodate him into my studies and work? Will my professors consider me a serious candidate because of pregnancy?

I suppose the true question of myself is will be able to give Little One proper care? I wish to raise my child. I do not wish to pass him to a caregiver. I do not wish to miss the important moments. I want to be the one who sees first him roll over, crawl, to sit, to walk, and say his first word.

I will continue my education. For now. I will look to my mother's example to see it can be done. She is a doctor. I am the only one born after her school was finished. It is certain though, I will not allow Little One to suffer by my absence. It is my responsibility to ensure he grows healthy and happy.

Fire!

Who gave Little One the torch?

Little one has decided he no longer cares for chocolate... or salsa... or mustard. I am afraid to discover what else he does not care for. Eating any of these gives him fits. Now I have terrible heartburn from even the smallest of nibbles. A single Hersey square leaves me searching for an antacid. This is made horribly unfair by the fact Lt gave me a gift of Godiva chocolate truffles. Twenty-two pieces call to me in the night and Little One will not allow it!

Please! Tell me this will end soon!