23 weeks

So, here I am in all my glory.
I look not so hot because we've been cleaning the house, shoveling, etc. all day. I could look happier, also.
Eh. Here it is. A 23 week belly shot.
Enjoy.

Mom suggets a name

My mother called me to suggest a baby name.
My father's name.

Very interesting. And to suggest my mother and father don't get along is a vast understatement. It would be less of an understatement to suggest that Hitler was a touch cranky and vaguely homicidal.

I'd have suggested the name myself, but I was truly afraid of how my mother would react. I didn't want her to think of my father EVERY time she said my son's name. And all that would come with.

My father and I have a bit of a checkered past. But it's just that: the past. So I'm not even going to get into it. Our bad history was a very brief period of my life and otherwise, I have the most wonderful memories of my father. And since becoming a "real" grown up (you know, out of college, career, etc), my father and I have patched our differences and are very close. I always thought naming my child after him would be a very touching way to honor my father and really, once and for all, put our bad chapter behind us. But how could I do that when I know how my mother feels about him? Who would that hurt more? My mother or my son? It was a no-win situation for me. I suggested my father's middle name as a middle name. It's a family name and one my mother respects. So that would probably have been OK. But the HG is not a fan. And in all fairness, it's not a great name. But it was a compromise. Ultimately, we bagged the idea altogether and settled on a different name. We thought. (Hey, I'm prone to changing my mind and we don't want a bunch of personalized stuff if this kid is going to get a last minute name change in the delivery room.)

Then mom called.
And now I'm torn. Because as much as I love the idea of naming my son after my father, we were really quite set on our other name. I realize we still have a few months to make this decision, but I have grown quite attached to calling my son by his (potential) first name. So what to do? We don't know that we'll have more children. Or even more sons for that matter! We can't very well just "save" one for next time. And we love both names.

So, I'm putting it to vote. Not that we'll absolutely go with the winning name. But hey, it might help us figure it out.
Either that or we'll change our minds completely and name this kid Dweezel in the delivery room.
Hey, it could happen. Epidurals are crazy things.

I have an announcement.

I am pregnant.

Yup, that's right. I'm pregnant.

I realize this may come as a shock to you, but I feel it's time to stop hiding it. The mood swings? It's really not my fault. Trust me, I'd like nothing more than to not be a basket case most of the time. There are times I can see myself from outside myself and I think, "Whoa girl. Simmer." But I swear, it feels like I have the worst case of PMS I've ever had, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Have I mentioned I married a saint?

On Saturday, I literally collapsed in sobs. Naked. In the middle of the hallway. Why? Because the plow guy didn't do a very good job. I mean, yes, there's more to the story, but that's really the gist of it.

On Sunday, the HG and I were putting together the snow thrower we had to buy after the plow guy screwed up. And I started to panic when I couldn't get the screws in right. The HG said, "Hey, calm down." And I screamed, "You have NO IDEA. JUST NO IDEA." in response. "Um, no idea about what?" Yeah. I have no idea. I think I was annoyed that we were putting the snow thrower together in my kitchen. Still, though. No idea why I lost it like that.

Today, I yelled at the AT&T customer service rep because she wanted the HG's SS number to verify our account. Ok, never mind that I'm on the account as well. And never mind that all I wanted was a replacement phone for the POS they sent me last time my phone broke (hi, it's less than 6 months old and I'm on replacement number 2....). And I think it's a royal load of BS that they need my husband's permission to do that like it's 1952 (Oh, all RIGHT, they need the primary account holder's permission. Don't nit pick.). But regardless. I think it's entirely possible I overreacted a touch when I hung up on her. Twice.

So, I believe it's entirely possible that I'm pregnant. And losing my mind. Why, oh why, is Xanax contraindicated with pregnancy? It would be best for at least my little portion of the free world if I could take something.

Or, absent that, at least get some sleep. I know your body goes through changes in pregnancy to get you ready for parenthood. I do truly believe this. Every pregnant woman I have ever spoken to says she cannot sleep. So I do realize that some of what I'm going through is preparation for the sleepless nights I'll deal with in a few months. But come on. It seems cruel. Nature should work the other way. This is the time you should get your best sleep ever. You know. To stock up.

Also, you should be at your most rational right now. I mean, in a few months my hormones will be running rampant and I'll be exhausted. AND I'll have a new little life to care for. Can't we talk to someone about this? Is this one of those things we get to blame on Eve? You know, like our periods? I'm telling you, that chick and I are gonna TALK when I see her.

In addition to the acid reflux, strange cravings (Peanut butter on eggs, anyone?), weight gain, bloat, and leaky boobs (hot!), I'm sure the the mood swings and exhaustion are irrefutable evidence that I'm pregnant. As if there was any doubt.

But you know, it's not all bad.

Right now, as I type, my little man is throwing a dance party in my belly. I'll take the weight gain, bloat, and leaky boobs for this little guy any day of the week.

I just wonder if the people around me are willing to take the mood swings.

I want a bump!

I have no bump.
I'm just a big fat cow. With no bump.

I see all these pretty pictures of women with the most adorable baby bumps. And I have bump envy. I want one. All I have is a fat belly and then a not fat, but looks like fat, belly. It is decidedly NOT a bump. It's....blob. I have a baby blob.

Pregnancy is not glamorous, and I never really expected it to be, but frankly, I'm just miserable today. I'm hormonal and cranky. And fat and gross.

And I worry about my little man constantly. I just want it to be 16 weeks from now so my little guy can be born safely. There is so much sadness in the world and I wonder why how I'm so lucky. I keep waiting for bad news. And I just love this little man so much, I cannot imagine not having him in my life and the thought of it scares me so much, some days I can't NOT think it.

There is nothing I love more than sitting on my couch and feeling my little man swimming around in there. I love all the punches and jabs he gives me. The other day, I swear he did a full flip. He was kicking down low, then I felt a rolling motion, and then he was kicking up high. It was quite seriously the coolest thing ever. Have I mentioned how much I love this little guy?

And the HG loves him too. He talks to my belly (um...blob....) every night. "Daddy loves you, little man. Grow big and strong so you can come see us!" How does that not just melt your heart? He's going to be the best dad in the world. He already worries about taking the best possible care of him. He's always been very conscious of our finances, but now he's like a Wall Street broker, the way he watches everything like a hawk. Not in an overbearing way--in a cute, doting father kind of a way. And he talks about how he's going to play catch with him and take him to Dunkin Donuts on Saturday mornings before going to the park. It's just so cute.

We just love this little man so much. Can we just please fast forward to April so he's here safe and sound? I want to kiss all his little toes and squeeze his little bum. And I can't wait to cradle him up against my chest with him curled up into my shoulder. I want to know if he has my nose and the HG's eyes. Will he be cursed with the evil toes of his father, or will he have model perfect feet like his mom (hey, something on me should be model perfect!)? Oh....and that lovely baby smell. I can't wait for that.

I know that what I'm feeling is perfectly normal and I'm certainly not the first woman to love her unborn child so much, the thought of NOT having him is overwhelming. It just seems that if I have to be a hormonal basket case, I could at least be blessed with a cute baby bump.
I'm just sayin.