The Waiting Game - Welcome, Baby Girl!

LIFE! You can’t control a thing. I wrote the post below exactly one day before my water broke at 2am and we rushed to Mount Sinai for an emergency C-section, thanks to breech position and a few other things. We had just gone to the doctor that day, and they said they were likely going to push out our October 25 C-section for November 7 or 8th, much closer to her due date. HA!!!

I’m still going to post it - and I will also say, welcome to the world sweet Sophie Lyons, four weeks early!


A note to my baby girl:

Who are you? Who will you be? Will you have hair? Will you have Alex’s smile, like I’m convinced you will from the ultrasound photos? I feel you kick (you love Lady GaGa!) and I waver between desperately wanting to meet you (and honestly…wanting my body to be my own again) and being close to tears because I know you’ll never be this close to me again.

I feel like I’ve experienced the gestational period of an elephant (95 weeks), and yet it’s all a rush at the end. I was so sick at the beginning – until 18 weeks! – and could handle eating only white rice with butter and salt, Bagel Bites, and these egg sandwiches. At least I ate a lot of kale until the nausea set in, and then tried to make up for it when I felt better. Maybe you’ll love sardines and anchovies like I do.

You’re not here yet, but I think these “firsts” are worth noting, especially for you, a baby born in New York City:

Your first opera – Tosca



Your first Broadway musical - Hello, Dolly

Your first museum - The Metropolitan Museum of Art at 19 weeks (plus lunch at E.A.T. where you later had a surprise baby shower in September!)

Your first domestic flight - EWR to Austin so I could speak at SXSW in March (you were a tiny bundle of cells at this point, and I wasn’t sick yet!)

Your first international flight - JFK to Istanbul (but you also flew to Switzerland, your other home country, three times)

I took you out to Via Carota for lunch when I finally started to feel better. Your hands are always stretched above your head in ultrasound photos, like I often sleep at night. Your dad speaks Swiss German to you already. Sometimes I get nervous about raising a kid with roots in two countries - all I wanted was a real home growing up and I am determined to give that to you. I don’t want you to ever feel torn between two places, but rather, so lucky that you get to feel at home in Switzerland and the U.S.

 A lunch date when I started feeling better.

A lunch date when I started feeling better.

I dreamed of having October to take long walks around New York, nesting and waiting for you, but the first half of October felt like the hottest days in July (I’m so grumpy when it’s hot and humid), and it turns out, we had to schedule having you on October 25th! Also, thanks to oligohydramnios and your breech position…I have to drink more water than I ever have, and find a bathroom every ten minutes, which makes those long walks slightly more challenging.

I’ve packed my freezer with food. I’ve washed all the baby clothes I can and the sheets. How lucky we are and how lucky you are to be born into a home where you will be loved and clothed and fed. My empathy for those who struggle with this has increased exponentially.

It still feels like the strangest moment in time ever - where everything feels normal, and yet nothing is normal. I’ve never spent this much continuous time in New York City since moving here. And it finally, finally feels like we have slowed down, to wait for you, to get ready for you, to think about you before you come into this beautiful, crazy, heartbreaking world.

You are loved, sweet baby girl. And we can’t wait to meet you.

In Praise of the Egg Sandwich (but not MORNING SICKNESS)

We just spent almost three weeks in Switzerland, a country I love and have now visited nearly 30 times. I always miss NYC immediately, until we get back and I remember how awful the subways are, and how nothing works, and the entire city is turning into a Duane Reade. But it's still magic. And one of my greatest loves is the egg sandwich.


I'm now 26 weeks pregnant, but the first four months were awful. Not only did I have terrible morning sickness until 18 weeks (THANKS A LOT, everyone who promised it would end at 12 weeks), but I had a stress fracture in my ankle, and was on crutches and a boot for six weeks. I went to Istanbul and Cappadocia for work, and could barely choke down white rice on most days. Of course, I love her (her!) already. We want her (desperately). But walking around in a jetlagged, puking, hazy, half-of-myself state was not fun.

HOWEVER, something that I was always able to eat in NYC was the egg sandwich.

Every deli has their version, but my favorite has always been from Lassen & Hennigs on Montague Street in Brooklyn Heights. Plain toasted roll (you might like a sesame seed roll, I don't), scrambled eggs, one slice of cheese (they normally put two on - personal preference), salt and pepper (must request!). It's the holy grail of simple egg sandwiches, the best ratio of egg/cheese/roll (unlike a bagel - too much dough).

Get yourself an egg sandwich, eat it on the Brooklyn Promenade with that killer view over lower Manhattan, and know you're experiencing one of New York's best (and cheapest) morning thrills.