The Pregnancy

Well, if the Old Wives' Tales have any validity at all, this little sucker is not only a girl, but a really strong-willed one. This is most definitely our last baby, The Huz and I are in more than 100% agreement about that. There will be no Business Happening until someone gets fixed permanently, of that we both agree. Ergo, I'm doing all those things I always wanted to do. First, we're not finding out the sex of this baby, second, I'm committed to not getting an epidural barring unforseeable complications, and third...um, something else cool.

But, wow, how different this one has been. With the boys, I felt nauseated with them, fairly constantly for a few long weeks during the first trimester. With this one, I was chained to the toilet, or had to carry a plastic bag with me from week 6 until week 16. Now, that's what I call FUN. I had no trouble sleeping with either of the boys, I napped like crazy and slept 12 hours at night. This time, I'm plagued with insomnia and lie awake for hours at night, no matter how exhausted I am. I'm also carrying very differently, my belly is all out in front and straight and all my weight is in the belly, which is great, but with both boys, I got a little heavier everywhere, and I carried much further back in my body. I also have a fantastically uncomfortable umbical hernia, which is really becoming exacerbated now that the belly is getting bigger. Anytime I sneeze, laugh too hard or forget to tighten my (quickly vanishing) ab muscles, it pops out and oh, it hurts. It feels like a particularly sensitive bruise, and any time it is touched, even if I accidentally brush it against something, it radiates pain. Super comfy. Of course, the boys think it's really cool that my belly button (or "bey butt" as Baby Taz calls it) sticks out so far, so they're always randomly poking at it, and wow, it's almost always unexpected. Then, of course, it's high-LAR-ious that Mommy jumps that high when we stick our finger in her bey butt, so let's sneak up on her and do it again!

I'm coming through much of the ambivalence to a place of peace and excitement. I've had some really wonderful bonding moments in the last few weeks, and I hold on to the thought that each time I've been pregnant, I've been terrified. That pregnancy, for me, is definitely not the exciting thing. I'm not a woman that loves, or even particularly likes, being pregnant. I didn't particularly like being engaged. I was engaged for the purpose of being married, and I'm pregnant for the purpose of mothering my sweet babies. Now that I have two pregnancies under my belt, I can at least accept that even if it does make me cold-hearted, pregnancy doesn't do a thing to make me feel all warm and cuddly, but once that baby is born, I will sacrifice anything and everything (except my other babies) for that child, and nothing can come between us. I don't really believe it now, but I do know it will happen.

I wonder what the baby will look like? It's fun to postulate. For some reason, the sex isn't all that important to me anymore. I was so scared of having a girl that I could have fainted, but now, I can see all the wonderful attributes of having a daughter. When Sir H started his preschool year at the beginning of September, we had Annual School Haircut Day, and the big boys (The Huz and Sir H) lined up for cuts. I had just gotten a Mini Boden catalog in the mail, and had spent at least an hour poring through the pictures of the younger boys, trying to find a style that I liked that would work with Sir H's hair. I had it narrowed down to three, and the next night, I excitedly took the pictures into the dining room at dinner to show the Huz and Sir H. I sat down and told them that I had been looking through the catalog, had some pictures to show them, elaborated on each hairstyle and how it would work with his hair texture, and then asked them for their opinions and looked up as I waited for their responses. My eyes met a blank stare (Sir H) and a slightly frightened and overwhelmed wide-eyed look (The Huz). We sat in silence as about 5 seconds ticked by, and I finally sighed and said, "I need a daughter, don't I." Sir H recommenced shoveling food into his mouth and The Huz took a deep breath when he saw that he was off the hook and nodded his head emphatically, just happy not to have had to make a choice.

For the record, the haircuts turned out seriously kickass.

The Joys of Dorkiness

So, I'm pulling out of the Chili's parking lot (the baby was demanding a molten chocolate cake), and I'm imagining telling The Huz about my doctor's visit and having the conversation in my head about what I wanted to tell him about my weight gain and how I'm getting close to my personal limit, and I was getting all worked up about my unhappiness about gaining 3 pounds this month, even though I know it's not that much, and I am totally talking out loud, as if The Huz is there in the car with me, because that's how I roll, right? So, I'm backing up, and I realize all at the same time that not only am I using facial expressions, emphasizing words and USING HAND GESTURES, but I'm also being stared at by a dude with his girlfriend/wife, whom, I realize, has been staring for longer than a second, and thinking that I have lost my damn mind. For some reason, I was so embarassed that I cared what Someguy thought that I TOTALLY put my hand up to my ear, as if I were wearing a Bluetooth, and kept talking, as if I WEREN'T crazy, and had been actually on the invisible phone the whole time and it was all cool and whatevs, dude, so quit staring. I'm pretty sure I even laughed breezily at something "The Huz said". I scare myself. Your turn. Please.