My sweet baby,

Your head nuzzled into my neck feels like a lazy Saturday morning. I bask in the scent of your warm skin, the texture of your fuzzy hair, and I want to etch those sensations into my heart. I love the way you get as close as you can to me, your weight a drowsy hug that stills me and calms me. You are more beautiful every day, perfect in a way that I will always remember. I live for your shy smiles and timid glances, they are treasures. Thank you for being the baby you are, and for being my dream come true every day.

Love,
Mama

Luke, deep in thought.

Lord, grant me the serenity I once knew nine months ago.

Give me a blind eye to the clutter that now fills my home.
Grace me with ears that hear what is actually being said, and not what I think they meant by it.
Lend my hands strength to change the thirteen thousandth diaper, fill the juice cups at lunchtime, and still hug my husband when he walks through the door.
Give me a mouth that smiles and says good things.
Bless me with eyes in the back of my head and an extra arm.
Expand my heart to fit my world.
Grant me a clear head, with thoughts that are healthy and productive.
Give me a body that leaps with the morning sun, and the ability to greet each day cheerfully.

And when You have seen to all the imperfections of my body and soul, then bless the people around me. Grant my friends the ability to understand my weaknesses, and help me to be a friend like that, too. Give my family patience and perserverence during this temporary insanity, and remind them it's worth the effort. Shower my husband with special grace to face the unexplained tears and mood swings, and assure him that the woman he married is still in there somewhere. Fill my children with knowledge of their mother's unending love, and help them know that fun will be had again.

And if You have time after all that, I'd love to be able to get my hair done.

Amen.

****

I promise not to turn this blog into all things Luke, but these are going out by request of Grandma. I think she's in withdrawl, and really, who can blame her?

His Tootsies

Hi, everybody! We are back home again, and before I crawl into the loveliness that is my own bed, I wanted to post a few pictures and stats like I promised.

Luke Everett was born on 5/13/05 at 12:32pm after a really great labor. (I will write more on this later-- I absolutely CANNOT believe how easy this was compared to my others!!) He weighed 6 lbs and 11 oz, and was 19 inches long. He has his own look-- it's hard to say that he resembles Wrenn or Eli because he is just his own unique self. He has been a terrific baby, very sweet and cuddly. He absolutely loves snuggling, and we are happily accomodating!

All his newborn assessments were good, and the ultrasound of his bladder showed that the cyst was still there but non-interfering. They didn't even do one of his brain right now, because there was no neurological reason to do it. He passed his tests with flying colors, so they will just look at that fluid pocket in the brain next week, when he has a followup sonogram of his bladder. Our hopes, it will continue to shrink and disappear - the fluid AND the cyst-- and the dotors think this is what will happen. They say all signs indicate he is just fine and perfectly normal! Praise God.

He's beautiful.

Click for more pics...

Cursor blinks expectantly at me... and I begin to move my fingers across the keyboard, hoping something compelling will come before the eventual. Period.

Oops. Not that. Not interesting, not even to me.

Backspace to whitespace.

Cursor blinks again.

This has been my writing experience lately, and I know why. In only a week and half, the world will scoot over to make room for a new being. In ten short days, a new voice will join the comforting noise of my life. Ten days from the birth of a child, ten days from an eternal change. Ten days, ten tiny toes... how can I fit anything else in my mind right now?

I have the fears all mothers do. Can I do this? Even more, can I do this well? Can I give what needs to be given, teach what needs to be taught? Will my arms stretch far enough to hold all these things, each so special, so precious?

But fear is fleeting. I stand before the carousel of life's emotions, and fear is only one of the many blurs that passes ever so often. Behind it and before it are so many other feelings-- confidence, hope, assurance-- they all wave and laugh as life spins by, rising and falling to the merry tune ringing in my ear.

That's it. That's what I feel. Each year of my life is a turn of this carousel, with the joys and sorrows making oh so brief appearances. It's too fast, I know. Ten days. Becomes ten years. Becomes ten decades. Until this ride is over and the music winds down.

I want to live every second of it, I want to know that my quarter was well spent.

Ten days... they rush forward sweetly. My mind and body and soul are preparing for that moment. I am crouched low, arms outstretched, ready to sweep this little one up that comes so fast towards me. There is my inspiration, there is my creativity-- it's all poured into that one anticipation. It's why this computer screen blinks whitely at me, it's why there are no other words in my head right now.

And that's okay. There will be plenty to say, to share, very soon. For now, maybe just the turn of the carousel is enough.

Last night at about four a.m., Wrenn ran into our room yelling and scared us to death. We bolted out of bed, adrenaline turned full blast. Turns out, she had a really bad dream. When questioned, she told us tearfully that it was about "God's big old car". No further explanation was provided.

I have no idea how terrifying that must have been. I mean, God's car? Come on-- you know that's gotta be intimidating. But, she recovered, and dreamed quietly the rest of the night.

Anyway, her dramatic entrance interrupted my own strange dream, which I so wanted to share. But there's just no way to tell a dream you had without boring the pants off everybody listening, so I'll spare you the details. I will tell you, however, that I was Mrs. Luke Skywalker, we'd defeated the Dark Side, and there was swing dancing. There was also a little anxiety over future employment for my husband and whether there would be a pension check from the rebel forces. Oh, and if he'd ever used "Jedi tricks" to meet women before.

Motto of this story: Be careful what you watch before bedtime when you're pregnant.

It could have been weirder, though. At least I wasn't Mrs. Yoda.

In the continuing saga that is my pregnancy, I am now back on bedrest.

"Bedrest" is such a deceptive term. It sounds so nice, like I'm reclined in a big mound of pillows and sleeping the hours away. When in truth, it's terribly inconvenient and disruptive to our life. I now have to AGAIN figure out how to follow the doctor's orders AND make sure my kids are taken care of, AND let Patrick finish up this semester AND start his new job (since I haven't been able to work at all) AND not depend too much on all the other people in my life who have already bent over backwards for me the last three weeks.

It's frustrating.

Okay, 'nuf whining. I'll write later when I'm a little more chipper.

My body whispers: Psst! Wake up!
My brain responds grumpily: What? Go back to sleep!

Body: I need to pee. Come on, get up.
Brain: No, I'm comfortable!
Body: Well, I'm not. And if I'M not, then YOU'RE not.
Brain: I hate you, you know that, right?
Body: Yeah, yeah, whatever.

Minutes later, the Brain is happily dozing again.

Body: Um... Brain?
Brain: What now, you jerk?
Body: Heartburn.
Brain: Oh you are just a piece of work. Why didn't you say something a minute ago when we walked past the medicine?
Body: It wasn't hurting then.
Brain: It'll quit in a minute, stop whining.
Body: No way, man. This is serious. My stomach lining is in major jeapordy.
Brain: I don't have a choice, do I? You're totally killing me here.
Body: Sorry, pal.
Brain: No you're not. Come on, let's get this over with.

Minutes later, the Brain is again nodding off.

Body: Look, I know you're going to be mad, but I'm thirsty now.
Brain: No. Go away.
Body: Seriously! My mouth is parched, it's like the Sahara in there! I can't make it until morning.
Brain: You're not going to shut up about this?
Body: No.
Brain: Okay, but this is absolutely the LAST thing we are doing. I'm putting your foot down.
Body: I hear ya, I promise. Last thing.

Mere moments later...

Body: Did you hear that?
Brain: NO!! I did not! And neither did you! You're just stalling!
Body: I swear I heard something.
Brain: You are SO getting Tylenol PM tomorrow night. Now, for the last time, GO.TO.SLEEP!

Body: Fine. You did remember to lock the front door though, right? That's all I'm saying. Because it would be way too easy for someone to sneak in here while everybody was asleep and just whack the lot of us.
Brain: That's ridiculous. And irrational. The only thing you need to be afraid of is ME if you don't SHUT UP!

Sadly, this went on for some time, before the Body finally got bored, and ran out of excuses to stay awake.

But by then, the Brain was busy thinking about how to blog about this the next day, and it was still several more hours before everyone had settled down again for the night.

You see what I'm working with here? Sheesh.

In an effort to help my doctor pay for his new Lexus SUV, I went to see him once again this morning. He's always happy to see me walk through the door! He told me his family has really been enjoying the new pool he put in, too. Glad to help, I said.

Anyway, I've apparently bribed my way into some good news. The amniotic fluid is up, which just goes to show that being lazy can be productive! I am off bedrest, and am now at reduced physical activity. He didn't release me to go back to work, but he said I didn't have to be off my feet so much anymore. I'll go back in a week (he mumbled something about getting a new widescreen tv), and they'll remeasure to see how things are. So, that's great news! I was prepared for whatever, but am glad I've got a little more time before this package arrives.

So, that's it, that's the update. I'll write more later.

Doesn't seem to keep my doctor away. Today's prognosis: Another week of bedrest.

Argh!! I'll admit, the first few days were nice. Extra rest, a break from chores, a little pampering-- I could close my eyes and pretend I was at the spa. But after a few days... the novelty wears off a bit and boredom sets in. Oh well. I am loaded up on movies to watch, and books to read, so maybe this week will be better.

As for the actual physical condition- my amniotic fluid was even lower, which was not good. I mean, come on! I did what I was supposed to! The doctor said I have oligohydramnios, which is not great but I suppose it could be worse. At least I am 32-33 weeks, and delivery at this point is not ideal, but it's not terrible. I go back in a week to be remeasured. If it's lower, they'll admit me to the hospital and hydrate me and give me steroids to help the baby's lungs develop faster. More than likely, they'd induce me if it gets to that point. Do you know how unready I am for that? Whoa. I mean, we haven't even settled on names, let alone gotten clothes and things together. I'm just so mentally not ready for this.

But, I'm not in a full panic, because that will only stress me out more, which is what we are trying to avoid. I'm okay. I'll be watching closely to make sure the baby is moving often, and I'll drink as much as I can, and maybe next week we'll have some good news. Maybe I'll bring two apples next time.

Okay, that's the update. More bloggy later.

What a morning! First, the good news. The fluid in the baby's brain measured exactly as it should! Hooray! The doctor said that he felt that what he was looking at was a perfectly normal fetal brain. He wants to look again, just to be doubly sure that it's not something that is coming and going since we have had one normal scan and one abnormal one. He seemed very positive though.

But you know we don't get off that easily around here, right? My amniotic fluid was a little low, probably due to the stress of well... just life, I guess. I wasn't consciously stressed about the baby, but I'll admit that life has been extremely hectic and fast paced lately. 2 kids, working full time, blah blah blah. Anyway, he put me on bed rest for a week. I'll go back next week and they'll remeasure the amniotic fluid and also look at the brain again to make sure we're still all clear there. If my amniotic fluid is back to normal, I'll be released to go back to work (maybe just part time?). If there is fluid in the baby's brain again, then we'll do an MRI to see just what's going on.

So, GREAT news, with a little inconvenient news as well. My mother-in-law is coming tomorrow, then my mom is coming Monday, to help with the kids. Thank goodness for them. I am really grateful for their willingness to help, though I hate to have to do it. But, hopefully being off my feet will take care of this little problem, and it will be a temporary thing.

Well, that's it for now. Thank you so much for all the prayers and love that you guys have sent our way over the last two weeks. God is good, to have blessed us with positive news and wonderful friends like you.

PS- We saw the baby looking at us during the ultrasound. It was crazy! The eyes were closed, then the baby blinked at us and looked all around. Strange, but cute, in an alienish sort of way.

Okay... back to bed now. Doctor's orders and all...

Okay, so I'm a nerd, with a disturbing affinity for corny puns.

As I suspected, I do not have gestational diabetes. I will take this as an omen to eat as much candy and carbs as I want. Huzzah!! I will commence celebration with Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, truly one of the finest elements of Easter cuisine.

I'm only doing it because the baby told me to, though.

I plan on sitting down and doing some good, quality blogging tonight, but I wanted to post this quick note in the meantime, for those of you wondering how that turned out.

Happy Friday everybody! Enjoy your weekend. May it be full of chocolatey peanutbuttery goodness.

I should have known it would turn out this way when I learned the physician's name was Dr. Vague. No, I'm kidding, that wasn't his name, but he should look into having it changed. I suppose it's not his fault, but this was a very unsatisfying visit. I was hoping he'd say, "Your ob made a mistake and there's absolutely no reason to be concerned." But he didn't.

What he did say was, yes, there is a higher than normal level of fluid in the brain. It's not a lot, but we need to monitor it. Come back in two weeks, and we'll see if it's increased. He said some more technical stuff, too-- but I won't bog you down with the details. If you want them, write/call me and I'll share.

I know all the possibilities-- the best being that it will simply reabsorb and have no affect on the baby whatsoever. The worst, it increases and things get bad from there. I stay away from that line of thinking though. Everytime my thoughts head in that direction, I get all weepy and I can't survive the next two weeks like that.

The doctor wasn't willing to say everything was okay, but he did say he didn't think it was the worst case. But the truth is, it's not really in his hands, and I know that. God will do as He sees fit, and I trust that He knows better than me. Our lives are fragile threads maintained by His loving care-- but what better Hands to tend us? It doesn't mean that I am not sad or scared or weak... but it does mean that I am not alone, I am not forgotten, and I am not hopeless, not ever.

Anyway, thank you for your words of encouragement, and the prayers I know you were all saying today. I really appreciate that. Keep this little one in your thoughts in the next two weeks, that all the fears will be unfounded, and the worry that seeks entrance into our lives will find no hold. I am optimistic, despite the blue tone of this post. I think the odds are really good that this will resolve itself-- and that is how I will continue to think until I am told otherwise.

And that is that. I'll be tucking this away now, because life demands it of me. This is a nonstop ride we're on around here, and maybe that's not such a bad thing at the moment. Busyness has it's perks.

That's all for now. Dinner is ready, and I must feed the masses, else there will be mutiny...

This morning can be summed up in one word - "ugh". The cyst hasn't disappeared, but it hasn't grown either. It isn't interfering with the function of the bladder, so that's good. It's something we'll probably have to deal with when the baby is born, because it doesn't look like it's budging. At the most severe it would mean surgery, at the least it will mean monitoring for a while, and handling things like bladder infections and the like.

That's the good news (okay, well, it's not what I wanted to hear, but it's not horrible, at least.)

But, since it's the Ides of March, you can't get away without a little bad news. While they were doing the scan, they noticed that there seemed to be extra fluid in the brain (go figure, Annie.) Not much, but enough to warrant a closer look. So, tomorrow, I have an appointment with a specialist to determine if it is an issue or not. The doctor was optimistic, or he didn't want to alarm me, I couldn't really tell. He said he didn't think it was the worst case scenario, which is hydrocephalus, but he wanted to be sure. He didn't see other indications of that. I handled it pretty well in the doctor's office, but when I got home and looked it up... well, that was a mistake. Dang that information highway. Then I had to call my mother and mother-in-law with news of the visit, and I lost it a little. I'm sure I scared the lights out of them, but I'm okay now. I KNOW there's nothing that I can do, and I am trying to keep a cool head about it. I'm not the type to dwell on the worst that can happen, so I'll hang in there till tomorrow. My appointment is at 3.

Now, on top of all that, I got a call a little while ago from the lab that my glucose test showed high sugar. Oy. It was BARELY over the limit, and now I have to do the 3 hour fasting test, where they take your blood every hour and you can't eat, and blah blah blah. It's not a fun test to take, and I know it's going to make me sick and it'll come back just fine. I really doubt that I have gestational diabetes. I don't fit the profile at all, but hey, with the luck I'm having... who knows.

AND it's raining.

So, that's the post for the day, and now I need some high quality chocolate. America's Finest would hit the spot right now, but M&M's will do in a pinch.

Anyway, thanks for the thoughts and prayers this morning, you guys are just great! I'll be back on tomorrow evening with the results of this next scan. At least I'll get to see this baby up close and personal-- those high level ultrasounds are too cool! I'll post a picture if I can.

Till tomorrow.

My husband is not a fan of LoTR. He kept this well concealed until somewhere in our fifth year of marriage, at which point I figured an annullment was probably out of the question. And since I'm not Catholic or in a soap opera, I don't think I'm even allowed to do that.

Anyway. He lucked out.

I dragged him to the first LoTR, and had to elbow him awake a few times, much to my dismay. I didn't bother taking him with me to see the second one, and the marathon would have probably killed him for good--- so he never saw them. Until a few weeks ago, when I finally managed to rent the last two and I hogtied him. And gagged him. And reminded him how much child support would run if he didn't do this for me.

A good seven hours later, we were both thoroughly saturated in dramatic, theatrical dialogue and landscape. We were taking an intermission, and I stretched my back, trying to get the "pregnancy kinks" out. Patrick put his hand on my belly and asked, "So, how's the kiddo doing?", to which I replied, "Oh, it's fine. Kind of quiet tonight, though.".

And Patrick, with all the seriousness of Gandalf the White Wizard, proclaimed in his most dramatic voice, "His time has not yet come."

Smarty pants.

But, his time IS coming soon. I am 29 weeks. I figure I won't make it till 40 weeks, being the 3rd baby and with me working full time. So, ten weeks or less, and this little one will be here! I'm excited. I'm not impatient, but I am looking forward to meeting this little squirmy one. I'm to the point where I am starting to get a bit uncomfortable, but I'm not miserable yet. I've got a few more weeks in me before I really start to turn on the whine. Oh, and I see you rolling your eyes back there, Patrick. Careful now.

Anywho, all this to say, tomorrow I have an ultrasound. I had a routine ultrasound three weeks ago, and they found a uterocele (a cyst) on the baby's bladder. The doctor told me not to freak out, that these things often disappear. He said it didn't seem to be interfering with the functioning of the bladder/kidneys, and that was good. We would re-evaluate it in three weeks, and take it from there. Well, that's tomorrow.

I've done a very good job of taking his advice on not freaking out, and I've kept it in perspective for three whole weeks. But now, on the eve of the next ultrasound, I'll admit I'm fighting nervousness. I think it will turn out okay, I really do, but I would appreciate your thoughts tomorrow around 9ish. Send some good mojo my way, and I'll post an update when I get back.

Wish us luck!

Wrenn told me today, quite seriously, that my belly button looks "mad". I have to admit I immedietely went to the mirror to see if she was right. I mean, that's not the kind of thing you can ignore, when body parts get angry with you. You have to address these issues head on. Don't want a mutiny on your hands... or feet... or whatever.

Anyway, turns out she was right. My belly button definitely looks a little "put out".

HAHAHAHA!

Well, maybe you had to be there.

Shut up.

Oh drat. I knew it would happen. A craving for a beautiful, vine-ripened tomato sandwich, with mayo and salt and pepper-- that you have to eat over the sink because it's so juicy it drips all over the place.

In January.

Won't someone please explain this to the one in utero that keeps demanding it? It won't listen to me.

As a side note, at first, I typed "hormonos", which tickled me.

When you want your mom's homemade peach cobbler, nothing else will do.

What... is... happening to me? Where did I get the sudden urge to learn how to knit? Why can't I stop thinking about making a big, fuzzy scarf?

And why can't I eat cheese anymore?? It's not fair!! I try, I take a bite, and I just can't do it. WHO AM I if I don't like cheddar and mozzarella anymore? I don't even know that person.

This pregnancy thing is way out of control. Messin' me up.

Today, I:

-Woke up with a headache that was specially cooked up for me by the Devil himself. My eyeballs are throbbing evilly, STILL.
-Wore a maternity shirt for the first time, and felt rather ridiculous. Yet... comfy. And not at all pregnant.
-Ate, no make that INHALED two Hostess "E" cupcakes, and talked impressively fast for the next three hours, much to the chagrin of my coworkers.
-In the middle of this talkfest, TOTALLY spilled the beans about a pregnant co-worker to the BOSS... I swear, I thought she was telling people, but NO. Horror.
-Forgot to pay the water bill. Luckily, they turned it off to help me remember. They did turn it back on this afternoon though, after I had to LEAVE WORK to pay it, after a frantic call from my husband.

Sigh.

Update: I also attempted to leave work an hour early. I put on my coat, scarf, grabbed my bag, and said, "Well, I don't know where the girl is who comes in next, but my shift is over... so I guess I'm going."

Blank stares for a minute, then everyone burst out laughing at me. I still had an hour to go. Boy, I looked like a blooming idiot. I laughed so hard I cried though.

What is wrong with me today?

One of the fun things about being pregnant is cravings. Seriously- there's nothing like being really hungry for something specific, then satisfying it. Now, not being able to have what you want when you want it is a different story. Shannon gets a little cranky when that happens. You don't want to see that. It gets ugly.

But I digress.

As morning sickness recedes, cravings rise. Here are a few that have cropped up lately.

1. Pickle sandwich - as in kosher spears and mayo on white bread. Yummers! Try eating that in the employee lounge though- it's not a big hit. Pickle smell, I suppose.
2. Buffalo hotwings- blame Sarcasmo. As of yet- an unmet craving... haven't had time to get them, and part of me dies each day without it.
3. Fried mushrooms- I'm THIS close to sending Patrick out to George's to get me some! Keep your keys handy, babe. I'll share, I promise. (if you just eat a few...)
4. Banana split- I confess I've indulged this craving more than once lately. This is totally unrelated to my recent weight gain, I'm sure.
5. Chili cheese dog (NO ONIONS!!) from Wards- the nearest of which is at least 3 hours away. Shoot. Are all my dreams impossible?
6. Tomato sandwich- as in RIPE GARDEN not waxy Wal-Mart. I don't see this one happenin' either. Oh, and no crust on that, please. I want it round like at a wedding. Hoo-whee!!
7. Chicken divan-- this is on the menu for the weekend. Creamy sauce, here I come! I shall expire in ecstacy.
8. Did I mention the hotwings? sigh.
9. Chocolate milk shake- and not that bland, hey-isn't-this-vanilla? stuff you get at MickeyD's.
10. White style spaghetti with a few canned tomatos. (don't ask me to explain this old family culinary delight. You'll be totally grossed out- just ask Patrick.)

As this list grows... sadly, so do I. I gotta pooch, now, ya know. It's cute though.

At least that morning sickness knocked off a good 7 pounds, though. My body is SO freaking smart!! I've got at least 7 guilt-free pounds to play around with!

*Evil smile.*

To: The Endocrinology System
CC: Cerebellum, Brain Stem
From: The Cerebral Cortex
Date: Week 9 of Fetal Development

We need to have a talk.

First off, I want you to know I appreciate all that you do for this company. The pituatary, excellent work there. Hypothalamus- top shelf. You really seem to know your business, and I don't even have to tell you what to do anymore. You've truly learned your way around the office, and that's terrific.

However. I do want to bring up the mood swings. We've had some complaints, that you're a little unpredictable. And that you're developing a rather blunt vocabulary. For the record, it is not appropriate to tell anyone to stuff anything (i.e. the remote control) anywhere on or in their person. This is simply not an acceptable response, no matter how fast they are clicking through the channels or what the volume level is set on. And, it is good to note, that people around you still have feelings, and you should refrain from calling them nutjobs, freaks, and &^#@$. You can see how this will benefit local communication and partnership, and increase pleasant interactions overall.

It's also been brought to my attention that you have developed a severe reaction to Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. While I cannot forbid you from outside interests, I do encourage you to seek hobbies that don't leave you sobbing inconsolably. I really don't get why you're crying anyway, but it's becoming a spectacle, and I think even Ty would admit to that. Perhaps it is best to avoid programs of this nature altogether for the next seven or eight months.

And lastly, I wish to address the levels of nausea that you've provoked in several of the vital organs, such as the stomach and esophagaus. I am unaware of a pre-existing conflict that would cause so vicious an attack on these gentle components, but if there is a problem, we need to discuss it. If you are unable to resolve this issue on your own, please see me in the restroom and we can review the contents again. And I shouldn't have to remind you that dry heaving and heartburn fall into this gastric category.

You're doing a great job in many other areas, and I'm sure that if you apply yourself, you'll improve in these as well.

Please don't point that finger at me. This is precisely the type of behavior I am referring to. It's not nice.

Sincerely,
The Cerebral Cortex

Working in the midst of doctors and nurses can be a great thing. If I need some lab work ordered for me, there's a doc handy to sign off on it. (The hypochondriacs dream come true!) And bored nurses? They'll do sonograms for me! Had one today, as a matter of fact, and it nearly turned all my hair gray right on the spot.

There were two blips on the screen.

The nurse, Ann, who is also a fellow church member and dear friend, leaned over and stared at the screen. "Um... Shannon? Do you see what I see?"

"No," I said, in full denial. "That is NOT two. It can't be!!"

So, four nurses and one doctor later, we put that fear to rest. No, not two heartbeats. Just an optical illusion.

They're pretty sure, anyway.

Pretty sure?? Pretty sure?

Actually, the doctor seemed confident, so I guess I'll relax now. But let me tell you, I turned white as a ghost and I was shaking like a leaf. I was in shock at that idea! I could only think, my mom is going to have to move down here. Dad'll have to learn to live without her, cause I'm gonna need her!

I go sometime in the next week or so for an appointment with my real doctor, and he'll do another one that should be easier to read. Hopefully no more "optical illusions"! I don't think I'll fully be over the possibility until then... because sometimes even doctors make mistakes. (Don't tell 'em I said that though.)

What a day! *laughing shakily*

People are already asking me what baby names I'm thinking of. That's okay, I don't mind the question, but I feel woefully unprepared to answer it. I really only have two I like right now, but I haven't put a lot of serious thought into it just yet.

For a girl, I like Rowen.

For a boy, I like Lex. Patrick says that's too Lex Lutherish, but I stand firm. Sounds cool to me. And cool is what it's all about, after all.

If I had a bowl of soup, I'd be falling asleep in it right now. I'm so tired- it's silly, really. I've done the normal amount of things I usually do, but I feel like in addition to that, I've run a marathon. And built a house. And single-handedly towed a barge up the Mississippi River. With my teeth, people. It's nuts!

I'm guessing that as a result of my fatigue, I am low on blogjuice tonight. I just can't think of what I want to write! I've started and stopped about a dozen times and nothing seems to flow. Hate it when that happens! I feel dim. Not so bright. A few cards short of a deck. A... uh... well, you get the idea.

Hopefully, this will pass. A day off from work, and a quick trip to the library tomorrow should (crossing fingers) stimulate the gray matter, and I'll be back to my average, not-necessarily-a-rocket-scientist-but-can-carry-on-a-decent-conversation-and-occasionally-make-good-joke self. (once I got started on the slashes, I had to follow through, but SHEESH that took me forever to type.)

If anybody else has any ideas, I'm open for them. I'm the one sitting in the corner over there with the blank stare. Help a girl out.

Bleh.

Hello, morning sickness. I wondered when you'd show up.

Annie's right, I should blog more about being pregnant. (You might regret that request in the months to come, by the way. I'll try not to turn APOG into a babyfest, but it can be awfully tempting!)

Okay, so here's the deal.

I am incapable of keeping good news to myself, and I can never wait the preferred 3 months before telling people when I'm pregnant. So, I'm a month along, and blabbing to the mailman, to the lady at Wal-Mart and to the world at large.

The bad side to that is, if you miscarry, then you have to backtrack and tell everybody what's happening. It's hard because people don't know what to say.

I know this, because before Eli, I had a non-viable pregnancy.

I never thought something like that would happen to me. It tested me, it tested my faith, because I didn't understand why God would go through the trouble of letting me be pregnant, then suddenly, not be. It seemed so arbitrary, so unnecessarily painful, so unlike what I expected God to do. I was angry, disappointed, and just sad.

In the days that followed though, I found peace, and understanding, and now, even thankfulness. There's a purpose for everything, even in the tragedies. God used that to teach me the things I needed to learn.

So now, announcing a new pregnancy, I don't do it with trepidation or fear, because I believe that whatever happens will be the right thing. And yet, a part of me is reserved, knowing that things do happen. The chance of miscarriage is not increased for me just because I had a previous one, but still, there is a sense of detachment until a little more time passes.

Telling everybody, making it public early on, it's trust in God. Not trust that He will do what I want, which would be a healthy and happy baby in 9 months, but trust that no matter what His will is, it's right. That's where this road has taken me, and I can't be sorry for that, no matter how hard it was at times.

So. Am I excited? Oh yeah, I am. Overwhelmed? No, not really! I've already given into the fact that life is going to be crazy busy for me for the next twenty years, and the tradeoff is so worth it. My life is amazing. I love it, imperfections and all. Another baby to share that with will be wonderful!

Lotsa happiness at APOG.

It's not much, but it's there!

That's right. I'm going to be the proud mother of a baby whale next June. Which is great, because it's before the seasonal migration, which is a real pain in the dorsal fin.

Yay for baby mammals!!