The early weeks of pregnancy are fragile—and confusing. Here, the answers to your questions.
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"Mama, it's my wedding day!"
Julia looks as if she's just emerged from a night of partying on Bourbon Street. She has a blanket over her head and eight jumbles of plastic beads slung around her neck, with a giant Liberace-like emerald heart-shaped ring on her finger. "It's going to be sooo lovely."
"Oh, wow!" I stand in awe. "Your wedding day! What a beautiful bride you are, Julia."
She twirls around a little so I can get the full effect.
"Umm...so, Juje, who's the lucky guy?"
"It's someone you love..." she teases. (I hope she won't leave us hanging on this particular detail on her actual wedding day.)
"Hmmm..." I think aloud. Since these guessing games usually involve something within Julia's direct line of sight, I look around the room and guess:
"Is it Charlie?"
"Yes! And you're going to be the flower girl!" she shouts, then runs off to the kitchen for a hot dog before the big event.
"Oops! Ketchup on my veil!" she announces, cheerily. Then, licks it off.
"Let's get dressed for the wedding," I motion, heading up to Julia's room in an attempt to get her actually dressed for the day. "This looks like a nice wedding dress." I pick out a white cotton dress from her closet.
"Nooooo, mama. The red one," she whines a little, pointing to her Christmas dress.
"Oh—of course the red one," I respond. "Silly me."
"Silly you," Julia agrees, bouncing on her bed. And then: "Oh no, mama! I lost the ring!" She rifles around in the blankets until she spots the green gem hidden in the sheets. (Phew. Crisis averted.)
Our babysitter, Wendy, arrives just in time to officiate the ceremony, and I take up my post as flower girl/photographer. Wendy and Charlie and I wait at the bottom of the staircase as Julia descends, in a proud and deliberate procession down the stairs. She smiles demurely, clutching her bouquet of broccoli.
The groom, dressed in an understated white onesie, beams up at Julia from his exersaucer.
They hold hands.
Preacher Wendy asks: "Julia, do you take Charlie to be your husband?"
Julia does an exuberant hop as she yells: "Yes!" at the top of her lungs.
"Charlie: Do you take Julia to be your wife?"
Charlie smiles a two-toothed grin.
"Then, you may kiss!"
Julia leans down and plants a kiss on the top of Charlie's head. He gums the green froggy on his exersaucer.
My eyes tear up a little and I think: I'm trying hard not to have any preconceived notions of what Julia's and Charlie's actual wedding days might be like. Or, if they'll get married at all, for that matter. But if they do, I can't help but wish each of them a day that's a little like this one.
Join FitPregnancy.com's Managing Editor Dana Rousmaniere each week as she chronicles life with a new baby.
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