39 Weeks: Ready! A Bumpdate

I can't wait to see the little foot that keeps kicking out my left side. To see his little face, to feel his little head in my hands. He's due Saturday! I expect him to make his appearance before then, but I suppose that's up to him. So here's what I think will be my last chance to do a formal bumpdate.

How far along: 39 weeks +1 day

How big is the baby: Baby Center says he's about 20 inches long and 7 pounds, the size of a mini watermelon. And that makes me think of The Office. Chances are he isn't too very big, though. His brother was 6 pounds full-term.

Sleep: Sometimes fine, sometimes not. I usually wake up every two or few hours to a contraction, or a foot in my rib, or a hiccuping baby, or the need to hit the loo.

Best moment of the week: That moment when I realized that I completely trust my body to bring this baby into the world. Suddenly I stopped stressing about the contractions that I've been having for weeks. I'll know when they're real.

Food cravings: Sugar. Sweets. Cookies. Somehow my son thinks I ate all of his and his dad's cookies. In fairness, they were OUR cookies. And there's totally a stash in the freezer.

Movement: Yup. Kicks, punches, stretches, hiccups. I can't wait to see him in action!

Labor signs: I've had contractions – sometimes regular, sometimes not – for the past few weeks. I guess that's pre-labor, and it's getting old.

What I really miss: Bending at my waist, wine, sleeping on my back.

Most worried about: Big Brother being upset that we're gone if we have to spend the night in the hospital. I know he'll be fine, of course. I just can't help thinking about it when he asks for "mama" every time he wakes up.

I'm looking forward to: Meeting him!

Anything else? We still haven't settled on a name. But I suppose we'll get that sorted out before too long!

38 Weeks +3: The Perfect Name

Sometimes we make things too hard on ourselves.

We won't name our child after any living relative. There are a lot of living relatives on my side of the family.

We won't give our child a name that reminds us of people we've known who we don't really like.

We don't want our child to have a trendy name.

We don't want our child to have a kind-of-boring name.

We don't want to name him something that sounds like we're trying really hard to name him something cool.

We don't want to totally ignore the times and name him something that will be made fun of forever.

There can't be rhyming.

We thought we'd name him that name that makes us both think "THAT'S IT!"

But here we are, 12 days from my due date, without that.

Right now my personal favorites have been dashed. That leaves my husband's favorite. I'm trying really hard to convince myself that I can do it, that I can come up with an endearing nickname from it, that it doesn't actually sound as bad as it does in my head. I mean, he really loves it. And I totally get the significance behind it. It's just... I don't love it like he does. That said, I think it meets all of the above criteria (less the "That's it!" factor).

Also, it has passed the toddler test. Of all of the names, First likes this one the best, too. And it's really cute when he says it. Maybe I'll practice shouting it like I would from the soccer sidelines. After all, he won't be an itty bitty baby forever.

37 Weeks: Now or Later

This baby has dropped very low. I'm definitely waddling. I've had contractions daily since I hit 36 weeks. They now come regularly, but still show all the signs of being pre-labor, lasting for two minutes or slowing down at night. Sadly, all this tells me is that I'll have the baby sometime in the next couple of weeks. You know, between now and my due date.

The toddler swings back and forth between extra-hilarious and extra-irritable. There are a LOT of extra requests for Mommy, which is such a change from his usual Dad-centric view of the world. Perhaps it's because I can't do as much as I did without a Butterball in my gut. Maybe he understands that his world is about to change. Whatever it is, nothing can change the fact that I love that little dude with unbelievable magnitude. He's going to be such a cool big brother.

Oddly, I still haven't had that legendary mom guilt about cheating him out of one-on-one time by having another baby now, rather than when he's older. Is it because we've shared a LOT of time together? (That is, nearly all of every single day of his life?) Is it because he is thriving in his two-morning-a-week preschool? Is it because I wonder why people don't feel bad for the second child, who will never get the same one-on-one attention that the first had in the earliest years?

Whatever the case... I'm just about out of time to worry about it. I've told my husband that I don't think this baby will wait for February. I've told my friends that I'm suspicious of this weekend's full moon. Time will tell. But our Go bags are packed and the baby laundry is put away.

36 Weeks: Nesting

Last night I woke up from a feeling of being punched in the cervix from above. As the day went on, I realized it was the baby dropping. There's some relief in my ribcage, but new pressure and pain down low. And so I've engaged in a mild panic.

Thankfully there aren't any signs of labor. Yet. But. My husband just brought down the stash of newborn stuff from the attic. I have clothes and covers to wash and toys and a pump to clean before this baby gets here. There's a freezer to clear out and many meals to prepare. I'm only 6 weeks into the story of our time in England at my other blog, and there are hundreds of photos of First that I mean to place in an album before Second arrives. Time is running out!

Then there's the toddler, yelling "mommy mommy mommy" every two minutes. In between that, he's likely climbing on a table, yelling "no," trying to ride the dog or running away from me. It all makes me wonder how it's going to work with two? I'm trying not to let it stress me out.

For now, though, I'm happy to have found a babysitter! My husband and I are actually going on a date, for the first time since... uh... um... August? Yeow. It will be nice to enjoy some time to ourselves while we can. There's a full moon in two weeks, and they say many women go into labor during a full moon. Might this little guy be early? Stay tuned!

33 Weeks: A Bumpdate

Less than 2 months to b-day! And this time my husband's home? What an adjustment, having someone around to ask for help when I need it. I don't have to take out the trash. We can tag-team the bedtime routine. I don't have to be the one to make up every conversation between my son's toys.

This past weekend I visited Brussels with some girlfriends. I spent three whole days away from my little guy – for the first time ever. It was really invigorating to get some good sleep, talk to adults and see some new scenery. But it was kind of a bummer when I went to him the next morning and he said, "Daddy's working?" instead of "Oh Mommy Mommy Mommy I missed you!" We seem to be back on track now, though.

I did buy a sweet, fuzzy, French lovey for #2 while I was away, as proof that I'm excited for his arrival. So I feel it's time for a formal update.

Baby's Size: Baby Center tells me he's over 4 pounds now. And he's definitely out of room in here!

Cravings: Nothing specific, really. Just the random nostalgia cravings of our pre-parenthood Omaha haunts and the accompanying beer/wine/spirits that went with them. 

Aversions: None.

Movement: This kid is training for the Olympics! He even kicked First during story time the other day. The two-year-old said, "Brother kicking!"

What I Miss: Wine. Belgian beer. Decent restaurants with take-out and delivery. Having a waist.

What I Most Look Forward To: Meeting our new little man!

31 Weeks: Oh Yeah, Childbirth!

I recently learned of this rumor that labor can be much quicker for the second child.

Um. What? Yes, please!

My memory of my first son's delivery is kind of weak. It makes me regret not blogging about the birth story, and now I understand why people do it. So, I'm going to tell you about it.

The Thursday night before he was due, I mentioned to my husband over the phone (after he asked) that I though I was having contractions, about a half hour apart, but they aren't very long or regular. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning, see. They'd tell me more then.

He was in Vegas for an intensive training program. He had been there for the past four months, and had a few weeks to go until graduation. We were led to believe that I needed to be on my way to the hospital to hop on a plane home. We were also planning to induce the following week – Thanksgiving week, when he had a break – if the baby didn't come before then.

He called me in the middle of the night to see if anything had changed. Of course, I was sleeping. So I didn't know. He found out how early he could fly home the next morning. He did not sleep. He did book a flight.

The next morning, the NP checked me. I was dilated 1cm, maybe half effaced. She swept my membranes and said, "See you next week for that induction."

My mom and I hung out until lunch time, when we left to pick up my husband for the airport. We stopped for Indian food. I was definitely contracting.

We hung out, tried to nap... around dinner time I was getting uncomfortable and we started timing the contractions. Around 9:30 (I think?) we went to the hospital. Still just 1cm. We walked the halls for a couple of hours. Just 2cm. As I was filling out my discharge papers at midnight to go home and labor more, my water broke. ("Um, either I just peed myself or my water broke," is what I said.) There was meconium in the amniotic fluid, which made it all extra gross and meant the NICU team was going to be there when the baby arrived in case he had swallowed some. Like I said, gross.

The rest is kind of a blur. There was the bathtub, pictures of the dog, and eventually a request for an epidural, which was kind of magic. I tried "sleeping." The nurses kept moving me around to keep up the baby's heart rate. Around 4:30 I woke up with an irresistible urge to push. The nurse checked me and laughed – she could feel his head! So I had to not push while the doctor was called, while the doctor went to change out of her collegiate sweatshirt and into scrubs. Three contractions later he arrived to a giant audience of the doctor, nurses, NICU team, residents, med students... perfectly healthy.

The next part is a blur, too. Something about a placenta. I remember my husband sleeping a lot. I did wake him up to check to see if the baby was still breathing. Breastfeeding wasn't really working out. I eventually got pretty tired. We went home Sunday.

I remember being achy and sore and groggy for a while. And now it's more than 2 years later.

My hope for this birth (assuming he's positioned properly and will arrive without complications) is that I go into it rested. That the water breaking part happens early in the day. That maybe this time I'll have the strength and support to tackle it without the epidural, only so that I can recover more quickly for the sake of First.

The base hospital has a new natural birthing room. Maybe this resource plus the "rumor" that second labors are faster will be what I need to do it.

29 Weeks: Slowing Down

Carrying the two-year-old is decidedly uncomfortable these days. His little knees jab my stomach where his little brother's elbows are also jabbing my stomach. Or, if I shift him back a bit to avoid this, I work out my delts in ways I've never known.

By the end of a long walk with the dog, my lower back and abdomen tell me it's time to go take a load off for a bit.

I've begun calling to First, "I'm NOT going to chase you!" every time he runs from an impending hygienic task. He does this, laughing and shouting, "Catch you! Hehehehe." before "hiding" face-down on the couch.

I even ask him to be really helpful and turn on the floor lamps in the corners that are hard to get to with my new frontal load.

Today I chose to indulge him in more than his RDA of screen time so that I could sit in a recliner and read a book. Reading a book is even difficult, in that I'm reading Anna Karenina. Its 800+ pages are kind of heavy and Second doesn't enjoy being a book stand. Plus, every now and then I have to arch back because there's a baby appendage poking my ribs.

And there are still 11 weeks to go.

Next week, when I get that text about having reached 30 weeks, I'll probably freak out. The last of the double-digits in terms of weeks to count down. The toddler is still in the crib, I still don't have a sparkle-free light fixture picked out and OMG I'm going to have another baby.

I promise a full, official Bumpdate with that hysterical post.

27 Weeks: The Best Thing About an Outtie

It still fascinates me that my belly button has popped out this time around. It also fascinates First.

Tonight at bedtime he started rubbing my belly and asked to see it. He poked my protruding navel and said, "ewwo, bwudda." (That's toddler for "Hello, brother," by the way.)

Then he lifted his shirt and poked his belly button and asked, "bwudda?"

I guess we still have a few months to help him figure it out.

Guest Post: Jennifer, on Time

I asked my friend and confidante Jennifer to write about what's on her mind as she nears the arrival of her second child. I can totally relate to what she has to say in this great guest post. Do you? We'd love to see your comments below!

Time. Time. Time. 

I thought I had no time. I though my toddler took all of my concentration and energy. 

And then I learned I was expecting our second child and I realized I had all the time in the world. 

We've settled into a decent routine full of regular meals, playtime, and sleeping. My son consistently sleeps and has a nap time. It varies sometimes, but I know I get that break. To clean. To nap. To cook. To read randomness on the internet. To stalk my friends on Facebook. To spend time with my husband. To stare into space. 

I don't have to think about time nursing or pumping or making bottles of formula. Or cleaning bottles. Or getting up all hours of the night. 

And I know now that that time is going away to be replaced by feedings and bouncing. A baby crying. If one is awake; the other's asleep. And vice versa.

I see all my "free" time being taken away. At least now, I know that when I leave the house to grocery shop or run an errand, sometimes I'm alone. Not the greatest alone time but sometimes as a military spouse away from family/friends/people you know to babysit your kids, you have to take what you can get. Once #2 arrives, I'll have at least one kid with me...if not both. And it terrifies me. Never to be alone again. Not even to mention having the time to actually leave the house and run to the grocery store. 

A year or more of having no time to do things I might want to do. Craft something. Meet a new friend? please. 

I find myself mourning my time lost with my first child. His whole world is about to change and I know I'll miss our one-on-one time together. Watching him learn and grow with my full focus and energy. I feel sad for the second that they may not receive that type of time from us. But knowing that they'll have a brother there beside them from the very beginning makes me happy for them and the time they will have together from the start. 

I'll have to make more of an effort to manage time, take time for me, and rejoice in this time as a family of four. I wonder how that works out. I know it will. It did the first time around. Any advice for a future mom of two?

26 Weeks: This New Little Person

So much of the energy I've given to this pregnancy has been to worry about how our lives will change. How much more exhausted we'll be. How it will affect First. How cool it's going to be to have another member in our family. But I haven't really spent any time thinking about THIS baby. What he's going to be like. How wonderful it's going to be to meet him. What my hopes and dreams are for him.

I haven't even taken the time to start cultivating love for this little person. There isn't that giddy anticipation that was so delicious before First was born. Not yet, at least.

Pregnancy is a roller coaster ride of emotions. When I have time to myself to reflect on them, I discover cues for being better and more mindful. It's just harder and harder to find that quiet time when I seem to require so much rest between parenting and chores and errands.

I'm lucky to have a friend who I can talk to about everything that sucks and is magical about parenting and pregnancy. It's a damn shame she's thousands of miles away, and that we've never actually been mothers together in the same town. I asked her to write up a post about expecting her second child (about 6 weeks before I'm expecting mine), and she has the thought of "time" on her mind, too. Please come back tomorrow to see what Jennifer has to say about life as we currently know it!

23 Weeks: Enjoying Things As They Are

Things are good.

Well, things are as good as they could be as a pregnant solo mom, I suppose.

We haven't had any crazy-scary-mommy days lately. My mood seems to have leveled out, and I feel like a much calmer and more relaxed parent. I have as much energy as I'm going to have between now and 2014. First and I are hitting our stride as Just the Two of Us, settling into a routine that works and keeps us both relatively pleasant company.

My belly is growing, but it's not cumbersome. It is interfering with bending over (which I often forget). It's an excellent dog pillow. Yesterday First lifted my shirt, pointed to it and said "brother!"  I'm only just beginning to have a hard time getting comfortable to sleep.

Right now is a time when I foresee the discomfort ahead, the physical challenges of having a giant belly and an active toddler. I know that one of these days I need to think about the birth and train my husband to be the birth partner I need. And I'm forcing myself to stop there, to avoid remembering the first months of new life. I'm repressing memories of exhaustion and breastfeeding. I'm not allowing myself to wonder how it will work with a 2-year-old to take care of, too.

Instead, I'm enjoying this time that I have to give entirely to my first son, to relax in the moments he's at nursery or sleeping. Perhaps I've found peace with knowing that I won't have these quiet moments again for a couple of years after Second is born?

22 Weeks: Baby Fat & Eating Well

I've just read my Baby Center app update that my one-pound baby is starting to look like a newborn. That I could see deep wrinkles in his skin, "which will be filled in before birth by a nice padding of fat."

First popped out a wrinkly, fat-free 6-pounder. I don't take it for granted that Second will come out all fat and squishy. In fact, I'm a bit worried about it. I wonder what I should be eating. Should I eat more healthfully? More fat? Less sugar? More protein?

I'm not so worried about my weight gain. (At least not yet.) Maybe it's because I only gained 20 pounds in my last pregnancy. And maybe that was because First was jammed into my gall bladder through half of it and I couldn't bear to eat anything containing more than 8 grams of fat. And maybe that was why he had no padding. Who knows?

Hunger is pretty much a given. String cheese, nuts, wholemeal toast with peanut butter, fruit, whole wheat crackers... these things I consume regularly between meals with things like scrambled eggs, toasted turkey sandwiches, lentil and rice pilaf, broiled salmon... which I consume regularly between things like handfuls (plural) of chocolate chips, spoonfuls (plural) of Nutella, a couple (of couple) of cookies, Halloween candy.

I don't know what else I could be doing to contribute to the fattening of this child. While I'm telling myself not to worry about, it's in my nature to find something to stress about.

And now I find this article, about how stress affects a baby's birthweight.

Hm.

::turns on nature sounds and Googles "prenatal yoga at home"::

20 Weeks: Half Way There!

First things first: We have settled into English time, seem to be overcoming a new biting phase, and have been breakdown-free for several days now. Phew. I celebrated by buying some new maternity clothes, because I'm just not going to make it on one pair of jeans and no dryer.

So. I guess this is the half-way point? Yeeeikes! I only have 20 more weeks to share with First, just the two of us, before Second arrives? Four months? And not just four months, but four months of birthdays and holidays and music class and nursery school and yoga and...

Wow.

I feel myself being hurtled toward The End of Life As I Know It. I have just finally started to feel settled, as a stay-at-home mom, living in England, parenting one delightful child. Deep down, though, I'm looking forward to having another tiny person to dote on. They grow too fast! And I look forward to the happy din of a house shared with kids (plural).

The urge to know if there's a boy or girl on the way is getting strong. Will there be a little brother or a little sister to plan for? Because, HELLO!, I need to start planning. My instinct keeps saying Girl despite my dream that there's a boy in there. As it were, the matter should be sorted out next week at the scan.

I keep running into other blogs' "bumpdates" (like this one and this one) and wondered out loud to no one if maybe I should do these, too? At least, every so often? In which case, My First Bumpdate:

Baby's Size: At 20 weeks, 'Lil is the length of a banana. Or, a "nananana," as we say in this house.
Cravings: Ceased! Or, I kind of just want to eat healthfully all the time.
Aversions: None.
Movement: Yes, kind of a tickly, rolling, popping feeling, especially after eating and about the time I'm trying to sleep.
What I Miss: Super-sweaty muscle-burning heart-pounding exercise (that isn't just walking up the stairs with a toddler in my arms), energy to stay awake through nap time, lots of coffee and red wine.
What I Most Look Forward To: The first time First gives Second a kiss with that sweet little adorable mouth of his. And that time in several years when I get a good night's sleep on a regular basis.

xx

15 Weeks: Gender Dreams

I'm terrible with surprises. There are plenty of surprises in our military life. If I know there's a "surprise" that I can find out about, I must find out so that I can feel like I have at least a little control in this life. 

So there has never been a question as to whether or not I'll find out the gender of any of our babies.

I had two pre-ultrasound dreams when I was pregnant with First. In both, my baby was a boy. And he was! (I also dreamt that I tried to take him home from the hospital in a backpack, and proceeded to lose him in the backpack. That did not happen.)

When people ask, I tell them that I think this one is a girl. I'm not really sure why. Perhaps because it's a default feeling as one of two sisters? Maybe because I'm hoping for a break from dirt-eating and bug-squishing?  

Then last night I had a dream of the 20-week ultrasound, in which I saw a baby boy in there. I woke up thinking how fun it would be for my kids to be brothers. Will my dreams hold true this time?

Either way, please don't tell me "congratulations" when I announce what gender we're having. I mean, come on. It's not like I'll be devastated if the ultrasound doesn't match my imagination. Though, I will admit, I felt a strange and wholly unexpected sense of pride in First being a boy. If I were a queen, I would keep my head! Was there forgotten rich uncle in our family with a secret Luca Brasi-style wish that our first child be a masculine child? 

Ultimately, the child that's in here is perfect exactly as she or he is. Whatever her disposition, whatever his interests, this child is going to round out our family so well.

13 Weeks: What a Difference a Day Makes

I spoke too soon last week about the nausea.

Maybe I shouldn't jinx it this week by saying that, this time! it seems to be gone. I can report that I'm hungry again. Like, "wake up in the middle of the night after weird dreams about convenience stores to eat" hungry. "Grilled cheese and waffle fries and a salad and Hawaiian Punch if they have it" hungry. And it feels good.

Since I managed to lose weight throughout the first trimester from being so ill, and since I don't have a dryer to re-shrink my clothes (the #1 thing I'm looking forward to in America), my clothes still fit. Except for my bras. I feel I'm on the edge of pushing past the point where I look like I just binge-ate junk food for three days. Maybe. As long as I'm not wearing a super-tight sexy dress. Which isn't an issue.

Now I'm in that mysterious time when I'm not sure how quickly I'll grow. I'm fairly certain that, if I buy a dress for a wedding a month from now, I'll bust out of it. Dress shopping for a formal dinner that's in a couple of weeks was, thankfully, fairly easy. There are several styles I tried that were flattering without being fitted around the waist. And that would go with shoes I have, because shoe shopping for an American size 10 in the UK is JUST the worst.

So. Right now my daily objectives are to get home for nap time and never be too far from food. And to start accomplishing stuff that I've been ignoring for the past 2 months!

What Relief in a Heartbeat

I wasn't prepared for what an emotional mess I would be at my appointment last Thursday. Though I shouldn't have been surprised. It was in the middle of my nap time, after all.

There I was, confessing that I felt overwhelmed, completely unprepared for handling two children, and not yet actually excited about this whole "being pregnant" thing. The response? "I think that's normal." I guess that's reassuring, but, just because it's normal doesn't mean it wouldn't be helpful to talk to someone, right?

At least there was the ultrasound. I wasn't entirely expecting it, perhaps because my husband wasn't there with me. But seeing actual feet and a face and a twitch and a heartbeat was such a surprise! I haven't been reading my weekly emails from Baby Center, I don't know where my pregnancy book is, and I easily forgot that my jumping little toddler was once this teeny little start of a person.

It was such a relief. There's a healthy baby in there. Suddenly, I smiled. I couldn't wait to show the image to my husband, somehow over the internet and across an ocean, ASAP. This is our son's little brother or sister! The rest of our family.

Then, over the weekend, I hit the 12 week mark and the nausea seemed to vanish. Seeing the baby and kicking the sickness has really improved my attitude.

I can't shake the exhaustion, though. First is fighting a fever, with me alone to get up in the night with him to give him his medicine, love, and a drink. I could really use a good night's sleep... and a morning to sleep in!

[Hormones!]

I don't remember being this out of whack last time.

Moldy strawberries at the supermarket will send me to the verge of tears. Hanging my laundry will result in a expletive-laced tirade about the benefits of "these things we have in America called dryers." The dog looking at me the wrong way will lead me to storming out of a room. My son not sleeping will send me into a spiral of self doubt, wherein I convince myself I'm a terrible mother and in no way fit to parent one child, much less two.

Then I'll be completely blissed out at how sweet and wonderful my child is! How brilliant the flowers are!

Of course it's these nutty pregnancy hormones, compounded by exhaustion and feeling so ick all the time. I'm optimistic that they'll even out as the first trimester comes to an end. But...

I want to be prepared just in case they don't. My goal for a healthy pregnancy requires me to be stress-free, and being an erratic caretaker of the most important thing in my life stresses me out a lot. Am I messing up my firstborn with my pregnancy hormone-afflicted behavior?


So, I'm going to be sure to bring it up when I get in for my first visit (still two weeks away). Maybe I just need to talk to an adult. Maybe I'll need more than that. Or maybe I just need to start eating seaweed or something. Whatever it takes to do this right, I'm game.

What about you? Are you experiencing hormonal mood swings that seem excessive? Have you overcome them? Any advice?

"Morning" Sickness?

I've never known a pregnant woman whose morning sickness actually and only happened in the morning.

My first pregnancy didn't make it past now. It was easy to coach myself through the constant nausea when I was pregnant with First by reminding myself that feeling sick meant things were in order. I try to remind myself of that now, but this time I know how long a month (not to mention nine!) of pregnancy can feel.

Sometimes I wonder if working back then was a blessing, having deadlines and projects and emails to distract myself with. Now I just slog along until toddler nap time, where the promise of my own nap awaits. Everything that needs to be unpacked also awaits, but it's not going anywhere, amIright?

The ever-helpful Baby Center recommends eating small frequent meals (done) and starting the day with a cracker and 20 minutes in bed (do you hear that, kiddo?). It also suggests that being well-rested helps (did I mention I just woke up from a nap?).

It seems foods with a higher sugar content – including breads, fruit and yogurt! – make me feel worse. Which is a total bummer, because I was so craving those cinnamon-brown sugar Pop Tarts that I brought home from the commissary yesterday.

Do you have any recommendations for coping with morning sickness? Or are you one of those lucky ones who doesn't feel bad at all?

Positively Positive

Is it normal for women to be nonchalant about a pregnancy after their first child?

There isn't that nervous-excited feeling this time. Maybe it's because I know roughly what to expect (you know, heartburn, giant boobs and a baby). Maybe it's because I don't want to deal with the Tricare Dance of a Million Phone Calls to get in to see the OB. Maybe it's because I'm exhausted, and days of moving and chasing around First don't leave me with much time to think about it.

Part of it is having experienced a miscarriage before, to be sure. And, honestly, there are twins in my family, and I'm a little terrified of being the one to bring the next generation of them.

It's a mixed bag of procrastination-worthy emotions, really.

Earlier this week I finally got around to calling the right place to get an authorization to do a pregnancy test at the base hospital so that I can get a referral to an OB to schedule my first appointment. (See what I'm talking about?) And, wouldn't you know, their pee test showed the same results as my pee test. [Positive.] A nurse will call in the next 60 hours to set up my referral.

I remember the first time around, when I couldn't believe I would have to wait until I was EIGHT WEEKS along to be seen. Surely I would have lost my mind waiting 3 days for a phone call to schedule that first appointment.

I suppose now I know how very, very long 40 weeks can be, when you have to squat to pick up that spoon you dropped on the kitchen floor.

Are you pregnant with your second (or third, or fourth...) child? Do you feel differently about it this time around?

Maybe Four

One week ago today, my husband and I had a hot date to celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary two days late. As it were, Tuesdays have much less potential for romance when you have a toddler.

Neither of us could remember the last time we lined up a babysitter to go out, just us. We were able to count, though: exactly three dates, kid-free, since arriving in the UK a year ago. Ouch.

What we'll probably remember about that anniversary date? Me sharing the news of the morning's positive pregnancy test. Growing our family seemed like an urgent thing to do after a particularly harrowing day at the office. His office, I mean. It's an airplane. A harrowing day at my office, a.k.a. our home, would have the opposite effect.

This all happened prior to the 18-month sleep regression, which I've been experiencing for a couple of weeks but have only just now learned about. Today I had the thought, "if I were a wild animal, I would have eaten my toddler by now." Then I panicked at the thought of trying to manage my current child with this other child that seems to be on the way. Thank goodness for the Internet and the wonderful mom who sent forth a beacon of hope in the form of this link.

So.

Here I am, wanting to talk about/freak out about/do cartwheels over this new pregnancy. But our first go at the "baby" thing ended quickly with an early miscarriage, so I'm in this "believe it when I start craving kids' cereals and peach pie with Little Caesar's Crazy Bread" kind of mode right now. What that means? We haven't told anyone yet. Except you, stranger.

Want to stick around? There's a lot I'm not prepared for, and I intend to fix that (at least a little) here each week.

I have no idea how one is supposed to pee with two kids in tow. I'm terrified that my sweet, charming toddler is going to turn all glum and moody once we bring home another kid. And I'm far from convinced that I'll be the kind of mom to safely endure two screaming kids and a broken down car on our way to buy a plunger in a hail storm while my husband is deployed.

I'd love for you to share this journey with me! Er, us.