Shall We Compare?

Mike mentioned tonight that we haven’t taken a picture of my belly for a while and we should take one. It’s been a long time since we’ve done it and even though I don’t look awesome I was game.

Just for giggles I decided to compare to my last 33 week picture. I’m not sure I should have though.  IMG_1020IMG_1062

Um yeah. Other than the fact that I was insanely bloated last time and had long since given up wearing my wedding ring, my belly was a tiny little thing!

Then, because I was feeling greeeaaat about that, we compared me to a few weeks later, when I was a month from delivery.

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Yep, bigger than that too. It’s official, I’m carrying a moose. A moose who has already decided to descend into my pelvis and make my belly so low that I have about three shirts that fit me.

I think I’ll keep the comparisons to a minimum for the next seven weeks. For now, I’m going to go feed the beast a little more. Apparently a plate full of chili fries wasn’t enough. I’ve got a new bar to set just in case there’s a baby number 3 in the future.

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I Think The Wait Might Kill Me

I have been very impatient with this pregnancy. I want March to get here and I want my baby. Like now. It hasn’t helped that I took a pregnancy test the very first day the instructions say you can. So we’ve known about this guy since July 7th. July to March is way too long to wait for a kid. (I know let him cook, don’t rush him. I know.)

So far I’ve had events in the near future to look forward to. The point where I could tell people, the gender ultrasound, a trip to California, Thanksgiving, Christmas, my nephew’s visit, my good friend having her baby, my baby shower. They were all little checks that I could tick off my list, and it meant I was that much closer to baby time. I have officially run out of those little events. My due date is next on my list, but it’s still two months away and I just don’t know if I can take it anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy being pregnant. Once I got past my nightmare aversion to all foods in the first trimester and the unfortunate trip to the emergency room, I’ve been flying high. I feel better than I did with Adam and I’m not swollen like a balloon by the end of every day. Seven months along and I can still wear my wedding ring! My midwife measured me last Friday at my appointment and said I’m measuring exactly where I should be. A few aches and pains, but nothing crazy has been ailing me.

I still get a kick out of every time the baby moves, and trust me, the kid can MOVE (like right now. There. And again. Oh there he is. He says hi readers.)

The thing is, having Adam outside of me has been better than being pregnant ever was, and I want that again. I want to cuddle up and smell Tater’s head. I want to see Adam get to know his baby brother, and I want Mike to get to know his son. I’m pretty sure he’s going to be a spitfire based on his gymnastics inside of me, so it should be a fun ride.

So I find myself being so impatient I can barely function. Mike kindly reminded me that we still have some things to get done before the baby comes. His dresser needs to be painted, and once that happens I can finally bring out the newborn clothes (YAY). There are little things that need to get done like put his bed together and install the car seat, but they’re mere trifles compared to “Go to hospital. Have Baby”.

I think these guys might be the only thing that gets me through this wait:

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Because they’re awesome. Which makes me so happy that I have this family. And that we’re adding to it. Which makes me think about the new baby, and that we still have two whole months to get through, which makes me impatient. See?!?! Do you see why I’m never going to make it? This wait is going to drive me crazy!! I’m going to go fold tiny cloth diapers and try to extract my son from my ribs now…

The Name Game

Something happened today. I looked into the mirror and didn’t recognize the giant behemoth belly that is now sticking out of me. I’ve had a cold the last couple of days and been miserable and tired, so pajamas were my number one clothing item. I guess in those days where I couldn’t really see what was happening, A LOT of stuff started happening.

My belly is protruding straight out in a big round ball, and the bottom of my shirts are already starting to creep up just a bit too much. He’s also like a ravenous wolverine in there. He kicks, rolls, punches, stretches and generally just moves around at all hours of the day. Who needs sleep when you can sit up at night listening to the rain and feel body parts protrude from all areas of your stomach?

Starting this week, I have less than two months to go until Operation Baby Drop is a go, and it’s made me think of the things that need to get done before Tater gets here. Put the crib together, paint his dresser, finish my 1,001 baby carrier projects that have been my way of nesting this time, paint the living room. Oh yeah, and we have to NAME the baby!

There was a point a while back where we thought we had a name pretty much ready. Then it fizzled and another one started to look like it’s a great choice. The original name is still on the short list, but it’s very neck and neck with the others at this point.

I thought naming Adam was hard, but this is turning out to be a big challenge. Not only do we have to find one that sounds good with Lee again, but it also has to go with Adam’s name. There won’t be any babies named Moon or Achilles in this house (yes I saw both of those on lists of names). We also don’t want to start a same-letter trend by starting his name with an A, and there are already so many L’s in his name that those are pretty much out too.

So, yeah. We’re at a point of mulling over the names we have and making sure they pass the Full Name Test. You can’t name a kid until you can properly scold them using their full name, right?

I know Tater will get a name, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be before he’s born. At least we have a short list, so if it does come down to a hospital naming situation we won’t have too many to go through. He’ll have one eventually. Definitely before he starts school. Or college. Or gets married. Definitely, maybe.