A love letter to amazing things

Well, we got back to London in one piece (well, physically. I was in a million pieces emotionally, but more of that later).

It was, in one word: fucking brilliant. Okay, that's two words. Whatever.

We spent a couple days in New York City for our anniversary, and it was so sweet. I never realised I missed it so much until I stepped foot on the wide, grey pavement in the sunshine. After almost 2 years of having not seen it since I moved, it was really beautiful. Even the ugly bits. We also went to visit the old neighbourhood we lived in, in Long Island City, and we strolled up the street, holding hands and remembering little memories that we had there. It was, after all, the city where we lived right after we got married, so the memories were surprisingly poignant. The mister secretly booked our hotel, and though I was expecting somewhere downtown in SoHo, he booked a boutique hotel where we could see this from our balcony:

It was perfect, and I fell in love with him all over again.

We also made a manic dash to a few shops and I managed to fit in a pretty decent and still economical shopping spree (and so did the mister). A few new shirts for him, tops and a pair of maternity jeans for me (yes, I submitted finally- what a nightmare), and then we set off to drive 4 hours to see my family upstate.

I can't begin to describe what the feeling was when we got there. We were excited to see them, obviously, but there was something so poignant about all of us being together for a few days. It felt like a moment that was dripping in honey. Really slow, sweet, irresistable in its utter joy. Mamo couldn't help but touch my expanding belly want to buy clothes for little bean, and Tato was both proud of his only girl, and excited at having the mister infuse a little testosterone into the mix. And Babchya... well. Babchya just couldn't stop hugging and kissing us. It was a massive celebration of love and family and eating and relaxing and planning for the unkown future that's about to happen to all of us.

We also managed to grab a cherished few hours with two people that we've known for a while, who have three perfect little people of their own. Before I describe them, I need to say something, though.

Honestly, I don't have many girlfriends. But I've never been the kind of girl that has a gang of girls to hang out with, or that has stayed best friends with her 12-year old classmate. Not that I haven't tried, believe me. I don't know why, but I guess I have a very distinct personality that doesn't seem to fit into a certain mold. I'm a bit brash, I have a dry sense of humour, I tend to be interested in solo sports rather than group sports, I tend to be the oddball, and I don't have regular girlie weekends "away from the boys".

Now, back to those two people. One person I've known since I was 15. His wife, however, I've gotten to know over a handful of years. She and I have seen eachother grow and change from a distance, and the few times that we've all met for a drink or a house visit, has been really lovely. And especially now, when I seem to be on the timeline that she had a couple years earlier (house, new business, baby on the way), there are a lot of elements in her that I recognise in myself, and I not only admire her as a wife and mother, but I I blink in awe of her strength and vulnerability as a woman and the kind of presence that she has. She walks into a room and she just has "it", and I have no idea what "it" is, though I'm sure her husband has a pretty good idea. And so do her little ones.

Anyway, without sounding like an obsessed fan, the dinner was full of great conversation, lots of wine (well, I got to live vicariously, anyway), and most of all, pee-in-my-pants laughter. The mister and I have a very weird sense of humour and I'm kind of blunt as well, and it was deliciously equalled by these two, and we felt a really nice connection. Though I had a pang of longing for the fact that the one woman I meet that shares a similar perspective, is 4,000 miles away. Figures. Either way, I know that even if we lived 20 minutes from eachother we probably wouldn't see eachother regularly, but that's what I find really fascinating about her. It's the ability to share the same space when you're able to, or parallel paths. A connection that isn't fed by anything but pure curiosity and the willingness to tackle a challenge. I miss her, but I relish the sweetness in using a few items that she's passed on to me. It's an honour, sweetheart.

Suffice to say, it was really hard for us to leave our vacation, it all went by at lightspeed. The journey home for me was rough, much more so than ever before. We realised that we wouldn't see my family again until baby makes its debut, and that really hit me hard. I'm not negating the fact that I have my in-laws here and they're really amazing.. but I just have to say, I miss my mom. I'll miss her hugging me tightly, patting my bump and whispering to it in Ukrainian. I'll miss seeing Tato hugging the mister tightly and telling him to take good care of me. I'll miss them around throughout this process this summer. I'll miss them when it's just me and the mister and the bump, before we have a second or third child that will break the "first time" reverie. It broke my heart into bits, but I had to be strong and realise that it's all a part of why life is such an amazing and hard test. The strength that you get from this kind of love is the sweet part of the pain, and that's what I need to focus on.

Until then, Mamo... ya tebe lyublyu.