We are struggling to find the right house, for you, dear baby. When I think of home for you, it is not so much the interior that matters because I know that we will make it a home for you no matter what. It doesn't matter if the closests are small, the shower doesn't have steam capabilities and the oven isn't a Wolf. Instead I think of things like, where will you learn to swim?, where will you ride your bike?, where will you climb trees?, where will you dig for worms? and where will you find the perfect spot to build a fort? It is hard to imagine those things in the city of Chicago. I never see kids riding their bikes, and I understand why - their parents don't let them - it's too dangerous. I want you to feel safe, to never be limited because of fear. I want you to have neighborhood friends - friends that are friends because they live on your block or your street or nearby, and there is no such thing as a "play date" - you just go outside and they are there, welcoming you into whatever creative play exisits. If we preach against video games and television and desire an active lifestyle connected with nature like those we had when we were young, then we have to provide the optimum environment for you to engage in this lifestyle, and not restrict it with a barely-there yard, compressed, allergen-ladden houses and ultimately fear, fear that is stronger than all the tangible elements combined. As long as we are in this city, summers in Maine will be a must. They will be so sacred, so saturated with soon-to-be memories I am almost more excited for you to be an adult and be able to reflect on those magical moments of playing with cousins, of smelling the sea, of eating lobster rolls on patina picnic tables and of watching the sky burst open with stars as you fall asleep and dream of worms.

The first trimester is over and yet I still feel ill. No more counting the days, now I just have to wait and hope that the light at the end of the tunnel is near. I have to consider myself somewhat fortunate that the years between the generations has tempered the sickness - it could be worse, much worse, like my grandmother Scarvaci, married name Sherman, who was so ill with her 3 pregnancies that she was hospitalized multiple times and ended up bedridden, connected to an IV to keep her hydrated properly. I just meander from bed to couch to bathroom and mediate between extreme aversions towards foods and mild cravings for things like french fries, knowing that I have to eat or I will get sick again and throw up burning bile. Yes, I know it is all worth it in the end. When I see your face will I even recall the piercing headaches, the vertigo-like nausea and the after-math of wiping dry my eyes and swishing clean my mouth? I cannot even conjur up energy on the weekends to go shopping for materity clothes or look at baby furniture or fun things like that...I just want to feel well enough to do that.

13 weeks. Had a long appointment with the doctor on Monday that lasted several hours between getting ultrasound, bloodwork, pelvic exam and interviewing with the doctor to discuss our medical histories and any questions we had. His name is Gregory Chen and he has a nice, calm demeanor, and is much gentler than the female gynocologists I have had in the past. His practice is small - there are only four doctors - and so we have a strong chance that he will deliver our baby. We heard the heartbeat! about 160 beats per minute - it was fast. The baby was moving around a lot more this time so the ultrasound did not produce the greatest images - he was flipping over onto his side, stomach and back and was often turned away from us so we didn't see much detail. Later this week I have to go to another doctor to have first trimester screening, a simple bloodwork and ultrasound procedure that tests for chromosomal disorders, namely Down's. All the talk of tests makes me slightly uncomfortable since I believe in letting nature take its course.

Well, I am one of the unfortunate ones whose skin does not improve with pregnancy. My face looks like it did when I was 19, and the worst part about it is that you cannot use a lot of the strong anti-pimple medications because they can cause birth defects. This is week 12, nearing the end of the first trimester but still no end seems in sight as I am still suffering from morning sickness. Going to work helps get my mind off of it but also causes me to stress so it is not the most positive thing. I am starting to get the dumb-i-fication of pregnancy: making mistakes and forgetting things, like the other day I literally asked my colleague Maureen, what's the month before June? I am assured that this gets worse as the months progress - great - that means you all can look forward to a lot of type-o's. I am also starting to have some wierd cravings - mostly for things somewhat unobtainable like things I ate growing up in Wauwatosa: Rocky Roccoco's pizza, the warm roast beef and cheese sandwich from Lalo's - the Italian take-out place on North Ave. up the street from where we lived at 2402 Pasadena Blvd. and cheese danishes from Kohl's - a grocery store, again up the street from 2402. We go to the doctor on Monday which I am excited for because it will be my first appointment with my ob - the dr. who will deliver my baby. We will also get another ultrasound and hear the heartbeat, so these will be exciting things we will share with you via the blog on Monday night/Tuesday.