it's going to be a christmas baby...

This morning I experienced a sensation that will (most likely) be the closest I ever come to the anticipation of a pregnant mother ... followed immediately by intense sadness and doubt of same mother who has decided to give her child up for adoption.

Here she is...






As you readers know, this sweater was planned. It's not like I got drunk one night with some really soft, gorgeous wool and thought, "what the heck, let's cast on!" and then had to figure out what to do with what I started. It was nothing like that. An unfortunate friend of mine, who is unable to cast on and carry to completion sweaters herself, asked me to do this favor for her. Feeling as strongly as I do about the pleasures of having and caring for handknit-wear, I was totally sympathetic to her situation. No one should be denied the handknit experience, so I said, "yes, Marina, I will make your sweater for you."

So now, day by day, I am creating this baby. Stitch by gentle stitch, row by beautiful row, she is getting bigger.

It hasn't been an easy incubation, I'll admit.

The first few weeks I was really unsure about my decision to take on this responsibility. I had my doubts about my abilities to carry it off. I wasn't sure about how she was looking. What defects would she have? Would she be beautiful? Would she be big enough? Too big? Too lumpy? Too loose? Would the arms be long enough? Too long? From day one my whole body has had aches and pains in places I didn't even know I could have aches and pains, particularly my back. I've even quit drinking until she is done for fear that one glass too many will cause me to miss one of those little stitches and ruin her for her whole life.





Then this morning, I got a glimpse of her future. I could see how totally beautiful this little creation was becoming. I felt so excited and anxious for the day she will be finished. I saw how her pattern, her features were developing into a gorgeous whole sweater. How perfectly her little hem lies, how the decreases of the neck hole will hold her big full collar.

Then I remembered, when she's done I have to turn her over to someone else.