Back in October, my period came one week late. We thought I was pregnant. We tested, we had blood drawn, and it turned out we weren't. So in November, when my period was 6 days late, I thought that my cycles had maybe just spread themselves out a little further, but thought maybe I should take a test, just to be safe. When 2 pink lines showed up on the First Response, I called Christopher into the bathroom with me, where I was staring wide eyed at the stick that I could have sworn had a spotlight shining down on it from heaven, and as soon as he gave me his "I see the line too" approval, I began to hyperventilate while he walked out with a big grin plastered across his face. As the day went on, the more I thought about it, I had convinced myself that it had only been an evaporation line that we had seen, and that it was another false alarm (I can't even tell you how many tests we've bought over the years, its embarrassing). Charlie wasn't even one year old yet, I was still breastfeeding, it took us twelve months to get pregnant last time... so this wasn't real.
Today I found out, that this (this beautiful miracle) is very real.
I'd like to introduce to you all, the bean...
We went into our Doctor's office this morning, bright and early. The routine was still fresh in my memory, seeing as how it was only a year ago that I was pregnant with little Charlie, so I felt comfortable. The kids both played with blocks while Christopher and I sat in the lobby, him reading a magazine, me staring at the wall, anxious for my ultrasound.
I stepped up onto the scale, growled as it evened out on my weight (while the doctor was shocked at how much weight I've lost, the opposite of how I was feeling after seeing that I've already gained a few pounds, and making totally inappropriate comments along the lines of "well no wonder you got pregnant again, I bet hes all over you"- my doctors is hilarious, by the way, but that's partially what makes up his greatness). We headed into the room, I put on my cute paper blanket, and before I knew it, all eyes were on the bean.
I've struggled with this pregnancy. I've had a hard time believing that I could be given the opportunity to be a mother for the 3rd time, knowing that there are women out there that can't even have one baby. I've felt like its too good to be true. For those reasons and more, I didn't give this baby a nickname. We called Charlie "poppyseed muffin" from the beginning, from the second the stick turned pink. I talked to him, I patted my tummy, I did all of the things that an expectant mother does, all of the same things I had done with Eleanore. It took until just the other day, earlier this week, after taking a 2 hour nap on my daughters bed (in which I woke up covered in a family of my little ponies and a little mermaid blanket), finally releasing some feelings in a couple of conversations with my friend Jessica, and realizing that my pants were not going to zip or button no matter what I did, that I gave the baby a nickname of, "the bean".
We're just a little over 8 weeks pregnant, but measuring in at 7. We'll have another ultrasound at our next appointment in February.
Herman baby #3 will be here this August, and we couldn't be more happy about it.
