Introducing Noah Arié-Lisboa

Noah Arié-Lisboa

Born July 24, 2020 at 2:29 pm. 7 lbs 12 oz, 21 inches long.

We did it Little Pea! Welcome to the world ❤️

Dear Noah (Letter Six, with pictures)

Hi Noah bear,

You are almost here! One more month! Your Dad and I have been setting up your nursery and it’s been so fun. It’s not finished yet, we still have to finish the crib, but we have your bassinet set up in our room where you will be sleeping with us when you first come home. All of us (Toulouse and Bernie included) find ourselves just sitting in your room, getting excited to finally meet you.

We are still in the mess of a global pandemic. The virus has spiked up again, hospitalizations are climbing, and your Dad and I are in our fifth month of quarantining at home. California just issued a mandatory mask policy and in some cities people can get fined if they are caught not wearing one in public. It is nerve wracking and worrisome and as it gets worse it’s hard not to be fearful of the uncertainty of the future. Many people are worried and upset. We also just found out recently my Aunt, who was just 49, has suddenly passed away, and we are all grieving her loss. She was a hospice nurse and a loving, sensitive and creative soul that you would have absolutely adored. I did, and so did your Dad when he met her. She was really excited to meet you. I wish I could avoid the stress of the pandemic and the sadness of loss for you while growing you within me. But the truth is, sadness is a part of loving people and I loved your Aunt very much. So did your Grandma, and my heart is broken for my mom.

Because of the coronavirus, and this is the absolute cruelest part of this virus, is that we still can’t see each other or anyone. Aunt Donna’s funeral can only have nine people attend and those present must wear masks and be socially distanced. And this is happening to everyone, all over the world. We watch people on the news who’s last words to their dying spouses or parents or loved ones are over Facetime on a phone held by a nurse. It’s incredibly heartbreaking. You can see in news anchors eyes and the doctors and nurses they interview that this pandemic is showing us, if we somehow didn’t know it already, how much we need each other, especially in uncertain times like this.  It’s very hard to not see my mom or dad right now. I miss them both so much and I wish we were all together. There is so much technology and social media meant to connect us virtually, phones, texts, video conferencing, but nothing is as reassuring as giving your mom and dad a hug and being near them, having dinner or going on a walk, being able to hold their hand. But right now in this weird new normal, showing others, especially those we love, and especially you little Noah bear, that we care and want to protect them, we have to stay away from them. It’s very unnatural and unnerving. Especially being pregnant with you. Coronavirus is stealing away lots of people’s big moments, pregnancies, births, weddings, graduations, even funerals. But we are all going through this together.

You and I do A LOT of prenatal yoga to try and make peace with the worries, heartache and grief. During it, I talk to you and send you positive messages and hopefully strength.  You are so special to me my little Noah. Regardless of whatever is going on or happening, we have a big moment coming up you and I, and I have to get you out safely. I want to make sure we both are strong (mentally, spiritually and physically)  and that I’m able to help you navigate your way out, because let’s face it, you’ll be the one calling all the shots. Birthing you will be a team effort, you and me (against all odds) and I don’t want to let you down when the time comes. I can’t be scared, and truthfully, I am a little.

At your last ultrasond your foot was mystically positioned up over your head causing Grace, the ultrasound tech, to exclaim “flexible Buddha baby!” My eyes grew wide, I’ve scrambled him with all the yoga. But you have a strong heartbeat and are healthy and you seem to be ok in there, besides being a tad squished. You’ve been craving (I say you, because I have never in my life wanted to eat) figs, raisins and dates. I told your Grandpa because he loves Fig Newtons (my mom, brother and I used to gag when he would eat them) and he replied, “Oh holy hell!” He is already proud of you. You also love V8 juice, a thick gross vegetable juice, which is something my mom craved when she was pregnant with me. Other more appetizing things you like to eat are spinach salads with hummus, feta cheese, dried cranberries and almonds, veggie burgers with pickles, ketchup and mustard, sweet potatoes, and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

We have to watch or read the news enough to understand whats going on, but we also have to combat it, so we have also been watching a lot of Australian dating competition shows. The contestants are all in their manic, confusing 20’s and say things like “he gives me the fanny flutters” and ask each other “do you reckon?” after they dump someone they just loved a week earlier. Every couple who wins breaks up immediately after filming, and they all go on to be social media influencers with Youtube channels telling us about what they eat in a day and their skincare routines. But watching something so ridiculous and unimportant turns our brains off and distracts us from all the chaos going on in the world. Sometimes you need that in order to self preserve.

I took some pictures for you because you won’t remember your nursery, but it’s meant so much to your Dad and I to be able to make a safe, magical little space for you, filled with sentimental treasures.

Dad painting your room, thinking of you. It was originally a nasty fecal brown color, ick.

Nana Toulouse loves your nursery, he’s always in it, waiting for his new friend.

Nounours, the little teddy on the shelf, was your Dad’s teddy bear when he was born. He’s sitting next to a little lion your Dad and I got you. Arie means “lion” in Hebrew and you are going to be born a Leo (hopefully on your Grandma’s birthday Aug 3rd, I hope I hope).  The treasure chest and ukuleles also belonged to your Dad as a kid. Inside the treasure chest are a bunch of baseball cards and little things your Dad wants to pass down to you. And I’ve been collecting books (poetry, picture books, song books) that one day we can read together. The artwork is made by a street artist called bumblebee who your Dad has painted a few murals with on buildings in Long Beach, DTLA and on the west side. And your diaper changing station that transforms into a little bath tub, or Eurospa as we’ve been calling it, was a gift from your grandparents. It’s mobile too, so we will be wheeling you all over the house changing your diaper and giving you baths.

Bernie, making your Eurospa look spooky.

Your crib has our little family looking over you. The tall giraffe (me), the friendly elephant (your Dad) and the brave lion (you!).

Your cat brothers looking out your window.

You and I at 35 weeks! I look and feel like I’ve swallowed a basketball. Your Dad has a weird feeling you will want to come out on July 30th and I’m hoping you come out on Aug 3rd, both early dates from your due date. And all research says first babies (and boys) tend to stay in there cooking well past their due date. Only you will know when you’re ready though and whatever you decide, we’ll be ready when you are.

Your bassinet in our room. And your French Grandma got you a sweet little blue snuggle bear and a cozy little blanket for your first little sleeping spot.

Your favorite salad. Hummus, figs, spinach, broccoli, dried cranberries and feta cheese. Yum figs. It’s basically a big bowl of tootz.

This is part of an album Aunt Donna made me when I was going away to college. It’s full of sweet and funny anecdotes along with funny pictures of the family like my Dad’s (your Grandpa’s) head glued onto Superman’s body. It’s a good representation of who she was. Your Dad and I were looking through it today and laughing. When we got to the page warning me to stay away from long bearded men, your Dad paused to take a closer look, “hey, that’s me!” She would have loved that. I’m so glad he was able to meet her. She was so funny and clever and she always made people laugh. You would have loved her too. She will be watching over you from heaven, one of your guardian angels.

I love you Noah.

I’ll see you soon!! I can’t believe it!

Love,

Your Mom