The Leavitt Uncles

Dear Baby,

Rewind to January for a minute here. I know I am jumping around on you, but there are parts of your story that I simply don’t want to leave out, and in the early weeks of pregnancy I was too paranoid about losing you to put anything on paper.

The day I had my first doctor’s appointment (the blood test) Uncle Ben came to town. He came for work and stayed with me and your father for two weeks. When he landed at Dulles, I declined to pick him up from the airport, telling him that I was at the doctor’s office. On the second day of his visit, I told him and Uncle Eli about you.

It was still early on in the pregnancy, but it is so rare for Uncle Ben to grace us with his presence in Virginia that I thought the occasion called for an announcement. I didn’t wait for a special moment. He got home late from work one night, and was about to go to the gym. Uncle Eli came over, and your father was there. No time like the present. I said, “Tony and I have some news… you’re going to be Uncles!” Both brothers were ecstatic. Uncle Ben said, “I knew it when you said you were at the doctor’s! Congratulations!” Uncle Eli had a million questions and impressed us with his pregnancy knowledge to the point where all three of us were concerned that you might already have a Leavitt cousin we don’t know about. But he has been great because he embraces all my little crazy and cliché ideas (unlike your father), always monitors my behavior and food intake, and is just so good natured and hilarious. The rest of us are always so serious and Uncle E lightens the mood for everyone.

Of course, the ever dedicated Uncle Ben proceeded to the gym, declaring that we would celebrate the news that weekend. What happened after this is something I want you to know only because I want you to know that life is not always “everything’s coming up roses.” Although I would like it to be for you, the fact is, it’s just not. The key is to find humor in adversity. If you can laugh about something, it makes life’s trials and tribulations much less difficult, trust me. Not that this was major adversity, but still. There’s always something.

Uncle Ben took Uncle Eli’s car to the gym. Eli’s car proceeded to die at said gym. Ben called Eli to solve the problem. Eli looked to your father and I to solve the problem. After a couple calls to a tow company, and the four of us fighting about blame and responsibility, the problem was solved.

Again, this is not a big deal. I’m just using it to teach you a lesson and to convey the humor in all of this. Everything concerning you is followed by some sort of event. I found out I was pregnant—there was a record blizzard. I tell your Uncles about you—we’re up until midnight dealing with tow trucks. Even our first ultrasound was followed by a complete plumbing disaster where our plumber got their snake stuck in the pipes, cut it, left it in there, and left us worse off than what we started with. I just find it amusing because it is so typical with both the Leavitts and the Cicalas that when you’re with them, something is going to happen, good or bad. I can see that you will be no different, as you perpetually remind us of your presence in momentous ways.

Anyway, the rest of the weekend brought the return of the Leavitt “good moments.” We had our celebratory dinner on Saturday, and all wore flannel. I think three of us showed up in the kitchen wearing flannel (completely unplanned) and then the fourth person was like, “Well, now this has to be a thing,” and went and changed. I wish I had a picture of it, but I don’t. We looked ridiculous but comical in the middle of preppy, yuppie, hipster Arlington as full flannel family.

On Sunday Uncle E, Uncle Ben and I did a sibling trip to Gettysburg. As I don’t believe Uncle Ben will be returning to Virginia until you are born, this was likely our last sibling trip without you. It was a great day—a random beautiful day in January, where we witnessed Civil War battle ground while listening to a C.D. in the car detailing the history of the scene. I can’t wait to recreate this trip with you in the back seat.

So there you have it. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Your uncles are very excited for your arrival and I’m sure you will be able to match, if not surpass, their tenacity, sense of adventure, and satirical nature.

Love,

Mom

At the top: The three of us with honest Abe.
I think you will love this trip when we do it with you in a few years.

Battle ground.

On the Right: Uncle Ben and Uncle E doing a Romeo and Juliet move on a lookout tower.