What's in Your Mind, When You're in Labor?

This third trimester was probably my roughest yet. Mainly because I had these excruciating pains deep in my left bum cheek, that I couldn't make go away that would come on and I'd just have to sit and wait for them to pass. So those, along with false labor pains three weeks before my due date, made me pretty ready to rumble just about every day of the last three weeks I was pregnant. Here's a decent idea of my thoughts on the actual day.

4:00 A.M. Whoa, that was a pretty bad one. Maybe today really is the day! Don't get hopes up, though. 

4:15 A.M. Ow. Yeah, that's something. 

7:30 A.M. (Making waffles) Mmmmm I'm going to eat so many waffles...ow ow ow. That's three in a row. I guess we aren't going to that baby blessing after all.

8:00 A.M. Gotta shower, shave, actually style my hair today. It's baby day! I think. It's been half an hour. 

[I was intent on doing what the doctor said, which was wait till they're coming every 3-5 minutes for an hour. But...that wasn't how it was going to be this time, it seemed.]

8:25 A.M. OOOOWWWW. OW. Why do people go natural?! I hate this. 

10:50 A.M. I always try to imagine people who are speeding have a wife in labor. And here we are, driving, when I'm actually in labor! But if Sam takes that turn fast I might scream, because the last thing I want in this physical state is to have my body jerked around. But I swear it'd be unintentional at least.

10:55 Huh. Look at that. The unintentional scream came anyway. 

11:00 A.M. (Arrive at my parents' house) Yeah, we'll probably just stay for like 20 minutes and then head to the hospital. 

11:30 A.M. I haven't had a contraction in half an hour...oh there it is. 

11:36 A.M. (Contraction) I got this. 

12:00 P.M. OWWWW! That's just unfair! I'm in labor, the bum pains should stop! 

[Those deep bum pains were worse than the contractions, but when they would come WHILE I was in labor, they would lead to a contraction. It was lovely.]

12:25 P.M. Seriously baby...make up your mind. 

12:50 P.M. Well we're just sitting here, might as well go to church and get to take the sacrament. 

12:55 P.M. (Walking to church) there's one. 

1:00 P.M. There's one.

1:05 P.M. There's one. These aren't anything, though...

1:30 P.M. OH MY GOSH. I'm dying. I'm going to die in church. And yet...I wonder how this looks to the bishopric? That's got to be a bit unnerving. They have no idea why I suddenly tensed up and am grimacing horribly, panting. Hee hee. 

1:50 P.M. Can I have my bum removed? Is that a thing? This is agony. 

1:55 P.M. Ow. Ow ow ow. We've only got five more minutes though, might as well stay.

2:00 P.M. Okay for sure today is baby day. Yeeshhhh. 

2:05-3:05 Yay, they're finally...sevenish minutes apart this whole hour! Hurry! Eat something! Even though I don't want food, all I could think of when Atticus was finally being delivered was how hungry I was. Not this time! 

3:30 (Arrive at hospital) I don't want a wheelchair...should I pretend I do? The bum pains are worse then. I'm going to be embarrassed if I haven't progressed at all and we do have to go home again.

3:35 Oh, I'm 6 1/2 cm dialated and 100% effaced. Okay. I'm not crazy. Why did we wait so long? 

3:43 Okay I know they numbed it, but I still had the feeling of metal against bone with that epidural. Dang that's freaky. Blegh. 

3:50 Epidurals are like sunshine and rainbows. This is glorious. Look at that contraction on that screen. I felt none of that. Maybe I'll catch up on some texts. 

4:20 Wait what? The doctor's already here? Oh, water breaking time, right. Wait I'm already at an 8?

4:43 Whoa, I'm at a 10? It's time to push?! How did that happen, we've only been here an hour! This is not how my body has babies. This is fake.

4:44 I've only pushed twice, how can the baby almost be out?! 

At this point I started laughing at the absurdity of it all. And then my doctor said 'You're going to laugh the baby out,' which made me laugh harder...and then I did! Our youngest little miss came out while I was laughing. Those laughs quickly lead to happy tears, which shouldn't surprise those who know me too much. 

Baby girl was a petite 6 lbs 1 oz. and 17" long, even though she was only four days early. Little thing!

And a bit over 24 hours later, we'd narrowed down her name from Genevieve, Imogene, Willow and Juliet to Willow Marie, and were able to go home. I didn't need any stitches down below this time, so didn't want to dilly dally in the hospital any longer than was necessary. 

We sure love this little gal!

Jori's and Atto's Bedroom

I love organizing. I can tell because I re-organize things all the time. Remember those 10 hours I spent in December, organizing the toys into three different categories (again)? Yeah, I've changed it again. It's so weird 'cause I hate cleaning, I don't enjoy decorating really (just enjoy the byproduct of it), and yet. There's something about finding the perfect fit, the perfect arrangement...it's like a puzzle for me. I thoroughly enjoy it. At least when I succeed at it.

So I've had fun, moving Atticus into Jori's room and making things that had been in the two fit as well as I can into one. And I want to share! Because it tickles my fancy! So...here's that:

First, the loft bed and reading nook. I have a lot of further ideas on fabrics and whatnot for the reading space, but right now things fit so great! We have an old foam mattress pad folded in half, with this child's chair next to it. 

On the left of this picture you can see a plastic bin that houses their now combined stuffed animals, with a smaller one that houses dolls in front of it. I'd hoped the space between the two beds might be enough for a bookcase...but it really isn't a lot of space. And the depth is weird, what with the crib right there. Like the kids will have to walk through a mini-corridor, if we do end up putting a shelf there. So for now...these things work well. They can access them from under the loft bed.

I was delighted to find that this bookshelf, which we've had since forever and which Sam built when he was 8, fit pretty great underneath Jori's bed. I rearranged the stories so both the ones that had been in Atto's room and the ones that were already there, work together. There isn't a lot of room for growth, that's the only downside...but it works well for the time being.

This is a peek into the two, small closets in the room. I LOVE this, honestly. I don't love the dressers as they are, but I love the fit. We purchased the one on the right just recently. This means they don't take up any space in the room, though, which is just perfect. What I wanted.

Finally, on Saturday, I found my solution to the toy dilemma that had been in their room! After I disbanded the toy rotation (AGAIN), and put a certain number in Jori's room, Atto's room, our 'den' aka room next to kitchen and the rest in the closet under the stairs in the living room, I didn't know how I was going to combine the toys from the two bedrooms into one. We had them on kind of weird things in each room before. 

So I wish I'd taken a before picture, so you could fully appreciate how much less space this particular shelf takes up...but before it was this white end table and an old nightstand that jutted into the room almost double what the current arrangement does. 

And HERE is the glorious solution:

A white, wooden shelf I found at D.I. for $15! It's 2 1/2 inches longer than I wanted, as it does cover part of the molding on the closets, but you can still open the doors so my goal was reached there. And it's height is PERFECT for Atticus. Any taller and it would have made his access to puzzles, the smaller knick knack toys etc. more difficult. But he can see and comfortably reach everything with this as it is. 

I should've taken more pictures of the room overall...but my point is, I'm loving the arrangement right now. This is one happy space-saving-furniture-arrangements-lover.

Finally...this isn't actually in their room, but falls under that organization of kid-related things umbrella, so thought I'd share this too:

I bought this 5 drawer plastic rolling shelf thing, over a year ago. Since then, it's been used in a toy room, the laundry room and now, to house our art supplies. 

Before, they were crammed onto the top shelf of an armoire and it was very difficult to keep track of/find things. When it finally occurred to me to use this cart to organize these things, I was tickled pink! What a great idea.

 

On the very top, I keep our educational supplies right now. I use the book Jori and I do preschool out of, as well as the binder to practice handwriting, daily. The box is a good size for up there, but all the books in there is not a perfect solution...still, it works until I come up with something better.

Ahhh....isn't it nice for things to have a place? 

Buy! Buy! Buy! Sell! Sell! Sell!

I made all these new years goals this year (as I always do), and most of them haven't much lifted off the ground (as usually happens). But one of these...'goals,' was to work on home decor stuff. I'm working this at-home transcription job, and was hoping I could use most I earn there toward making our home a reflection of who we are as a family/a place I enjoy being, more. I've never felt much freedom in spending here. (Not 'cause of Sam, just...me.) So! I added up how much I expect to earn from this job within a certain time frame, and divided it up by rooms, so I don't have to feel bad spending a tad of money on things like...fabric for pillows or something. I also have $110 cash left from Christmas, which was the main gift I asked for on both sides for this same purpose.

But even with this, and with my first paychecks coming in...old habits die hard! It's easier for me to sell other things, and use that money, than to actually take money out of the bank for things that seem so unnecessary. (Except when it's from D.I., somehow that sneaks through my filter...sneaky, sneaky thrift store.)

So. I thought I'd share some of the things I've been buying and selling, because of my nesting. Silly me. :)

Remember these? Sam's brother Jotham and his wife Jamie gave these two us, 2 1/2 years ago. I have loved how long the couch is, and we made good use in our current home of the love seat as a reading couch in Jori's room. But really...the fabric isn't practical, for a family with small children. And the couch is 8 feet long, and I don't know if we're done with apartment living or not (could have to do it again). So I decided to sell them. I got quite a bit more for them than I'd gotten my hopes up for ($150), since they're so hard to clean and had spots all over the place. So I was happy.

So then I started looking for a leather couch, for their durability with children, in a certain color and preferably with reclining seats. And I discovered this bad boy on KSL, for only 50 bones. $50! In Provo, too! I told the guy I would buy it about 3 hours after he posted it, and Sam went to get it the next night (a Friday). Which was a fiasco, btw, 'cause Sam's truck's emergency brake locked on for some reason (he hadn't put it on), and the truck was smoking...but the guy helped him carry it to the truck where it had broken down a block from his apartment, and I felt satisfied. Other than the truck stuff but that's a different story.

And then we got it inside and I sat down on it. OOF.

"Well," I thought, "Maybe I could get used to a Flintstone-hard couch." And then two seconds later, I thought "Um, no." So I checked on KSL Sunday night, just out of curiosity...and found a leather couch (turned out the one pictured above was vinyl), closer to the color I'd been hoping for (turned out the other one was darker/more brown than I'd wanted), WITH reclining seats this time, for $100. Hurray!! In Sandy. Lucky for me Sam was feeling generous, and went and bought it Monday night.

I know it's more wrinkly-looking...but it's way more comfortable, has reclining seats, and I'm not worried about any cracks forming. Yay! I sold the other one for $75 about ten days later, so it was more like this one cost $75.  Win-win.

Then, well let me back track. Our neighbors had given us their old bunk bed that was a full size bottom, twin size top, back in November or thereabouts. They'd said they were planning to take it to D.I., but would rather hand it off to someone they knew who might benefit from it. So when they asked us, we said sure, thanks!

 But after a lot of thought (seriously, I'm a worry wart), I decided it'd be easier to keep Atticus in either his crib or a toddler bed, rather than try to adjust him to sleeping on a full.  Right before the baby comes. Plus it took up the entire room. So we sold that for $100. 

Lest you think I'm an ungrateful jerk...well, you still have permission to, but I used about $95 of that to buy a new twin-size mattress and a water-proof mattress protector thing (looks like a sheet but also protects against allergens), for Jori. I'd been looking on KSL for a twin-size mattress too, but had such mixed feelings since you have no way of knowing what has happened on that bed before you! Somehow a couch or clothes or...all sorts of other things, I don't mind, but a mattress? I dunno.

So it was SUCH a blessing that our neighbors, in a roundabout way, enabled the purchase. Yay! Many, many thanks to them for that.

Instead of the full-size-bottom bunk bed, I decided we should get a loft bed for Jori, and have Atticus sleep under it in either a crib or toddler bed. And I really got lucky spending-wise here! Someone was selling a partially lofted one (like, Jori can stand under it, but not her friends who are taller), and also a much higher lofted one, for $40 in Sandy!! Together! This seemed perfect, since I hadn't decided if I thought it'd be best for her to be way up high or just, a little bit. Depended partially on if Atticus could sleep in a toddler bed or crib, since I didn't think a crib would fit under the lower lofted option.

But after we set up the lower-lofted one, I realized I could set up a reading nook for the kids under there (which I'd been planning for the room anyway, just off to a different side), and have Atticus still in a crib but NEXT to her bed. Perfect! Light bulb! Hallelujuah, sleeping arrangement finally figured out!! 

Yeah. This was a big deal, you guys. A month of worry resolved. Phew.

So here's Jori's bed, currently: 

Very currently. It's a wee bit messy in there. But I want to make a post about their room a different time so I'll leave it at that, for now. (The only down side is it really is kinda squeaky...but I figured it's something we can deal with.)

And here's the taller one, propped up against our bookcases in the living room: 

We discovered upon further inspection that I think it's missing a couple pieces...but considering most of these go on KSL for, at their lowest, usually $80, I'm hoping we'll find someone who'd be willing to take it off our hands for $20 or something. The pieces aren't essential, just make it more stable. So we'll see.

These have been my main sales. We've also bought a vertical dresser for Atticus for $35, a shelf for their room for $15, and I've spent a tad on some purchases for our backyard (swings for $25, portable fire pit for $30, patio swing for $25). But both the kids' shared room and our backyard I want to have their own posts, so for now...I'll leave it at that. :) 

I'm a classifieds-shopping fiend. 

"Their Real Children": One of Many Choices in Phrasing That Makes me Uneasy

Truth be told...I'm kind of an unpleasant person, in a lot of ways. I mean, I'm polite, and try to please people because I do want others to be comfortable and happy around me, and I also can't stand contention (particularly when I know I'm wrong)...but some of it I know is just a pain. Case in point: I can be ridiculously particular.

Example: when I was 12, my 6th grade teacher had this August calendar on the wall.  The kind that each day of the month is pinned up individually? He never changed it, and it became kind of a funny joke.  And then I couldn't stand it one day in March, and changed it. Because I'm that person.

Or, I corrected a Biology teacher for his spelling in college once. Not to put him down and show my superiority, though he felt this was what I was meaning to do and immediately made me look stupid in front of the class for it. This bewildered me: I hadn't thought it through at all. I was just being accurate. It's wrong, let him know. Eh?

It's not OCD, it's not obsessive (I think)...but I do like things to be correct, as far as I understand them. Accurate. I don't know why, but I do. (Jori does, too, actually, but that's a different story.)

And one way this is definitely true is in people getting the appropriate credit they deserve. And me not getting credit I don't. (Not even in a humble way, honestly; for whatever reason, the prospect of being praised for things I didn't do makes me exceedingly uncomfortable. I'm all for credit when I did something, but when I didn't, I always have this image of the truth coming out and people, shocked, snapping their heads to look at me with shock and utter betrayal in their eyes...what the heck, Ariel's psyche.)

ANYWAY this is all to lead up to say, sometimes things people say bother me. (Don't stop talking, I don't want you to walk on eggshells with your choice of words around me...but I like reflecting, in an effort to be more considerate to people who might be different than me. That's all I'm going for, here.)

One of these is the phrasing people choose to use, in regards to adopted children or children who were raised by some that were not their biological parents.

I don't say this to discredit birth parents. Honestly, I've always been pro-life, but have also always been very pro-adoption. But it is true, with the more I learn about abortion, the less judgmental I become of the 17-year-old who decided to keep her baby. My first thought is often now "Thank you for not killing it while it was still inside of you," rather than "It would have been so much better off if you'd given it up for adoption." I truly can not imagine the agony it would be to grow this life inside of me, and then say good bye to it. It would be such a challenge.

So I try not to blame them for keeping it...and those who DO give it up, I see as heroes. Honest-to-goodness, incredible examples of Christ-like love. What a selfless act.

They will always be the birth parents. They deserve that recognition, that the life started with them.

BUT. Children can be absolutely, 100% 'yours,' even if you had nothing to do with their conception. And just because a pair of people were what began a child's life, does not make them the 'real' or 'actual' parents. No.

What makes a parent a parent is raising a child. This can be a grandparent, a set of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, strangers, even biological siblings. Where the baby came from does not make them any less a part of the family that they grow up in.

I know! This is dumb. I've used this phraseology myself. 'Real' or 'actual' parents. I probably will again, and soon. Call me out on it, if you so desire.

But when I DO think about it (as I tend to do, overthink things)...it seems like a discredit to the adoptive parents. Like their contribution is lessened, because they didn't grow the baby themselves.

I just think, these parents deserve so much credit and recognition, too! Bringing in a child to their home, to try to give it a better life than it may have otherwise had. Being responsible for the care and nurturing and...EVERYTHING, of that child. I'd say for 18 years, but as I'm about to turn 27 and my parents are still constantly taking care of me, I feel more comfortable saying it's forever.

Giving some the label of 'actual' parents, and it not going to the ones that are with that child through thick and thin...it just seems inappropriate, somehow.

Perhaps some of this is spurred by Sam's oldest sister and her husband in the process of adopting a down-syndrome baby from near Russia. Perhaps part of it is because I'm due with my third child in six weeks, and have been talking with the kids about how babies come into this world. It could also be because facebook-clicking lead me to a dear friend's ex-husband's account, and how he now has all these pictures up of him doing service in third world countries for orphans...but he was and is a terrible father to the children that he, biologically, fathered. I don't know.

But families can be created in a multitude of ways, and I think the ones who've given up the life they knew before to raise human beings in love, sure deserve a pat on the back. Y'all are awesome.

Oh, Sunday Morning...

Have you ever seen this? It's called "Sunday Morning."

This was pretty much us two weeks ago. I really do think 9:00 church is awesome, but apparently because we made it so easily the week before I underestimated how long we'd take that morning. 

It really made me realize what is essential and what is just...fuss, on a Sunday morning. Fancy hairstyle that takes half an hour for Jori? She was lucky it got in a ponytail. (If it did...I can't remember. We might have played the 'wavy' card, to justify the tangles.) German Pancakes, our usual Sunday morning tradition? Atticus had cereal, and Jori a banana and toast in the foyer of the church. Even somewhat coordinated clothing on our four-year-old? No time! I had to be glad she was in a dress! Sunday shirt? Apparently Atticus didn't think this was necessary, and even this we forewent to get over there. Atticus wore a too-small-for-him sweater jacket thing, bare chested underneath. Even walking to church, which we almost always do because we only live about a block away, was out. We drove. With the kids sitting on the floor of the van because I didn't want to strap them in for a block's drive and I'm dangerous.

We finally puffed in about seven minutes late, when they were singing the sacrament hymn. 

But. Even with all the chaos that reigned that morning, our later-than-it-needed-to-be-start, and late arrival...I couldn't help but feel so grateful to be there. So glad we made it in time to take the sacrament. Because we were so close to missing it, it made me all the more grateful for it. 

I often think of a story that you can read about in this talk,about Joseph F. Smith in a dream he had with the prophet Joseph Smith. In it there's the phrase "I'm late, but I'm clean! I'm clean!" 

Love that.

Three Stories/Messages, I've Been Pondering a Lot

I want to write these down, because the details are fading from my memory and I don't want them to disappear completely without a trace.

Sometimes certain things really strike me as truth. Like "That's it." A light bulb, a-HA moment if you will. I know everyone has these. It can be listening to others speak, it can just be pondering things on your own and suddenly something makes sense. Well I wanted to share three that I really liked, before I forget them again.

The first was the longest ago. Maybe three or four years. I think it's when Sam and I were living in my parent's ward. We were in sacrament meeting. I can't remember if it was a talk given...I think it was. I'll say woman A was telling us about this, in a talk.

Here's the mottled, general idea: this woman (woman B), in a different sacrament meeting, had either been speaking or listening to someone else speak...I can't remember which. But she felt drawn to this other woman (woman C) in the meeting. (Either the one that was speaking, or someone in the congregation who was crying as she spoke.) Somehow she figured out that...I can't remember if this family had just moved somewhere, I don't think that's what it was. But there had been black mold all over most of their possessions. Is that the dangerous kind? The dangerous kind. Once it'd been discovered, they had to get rid of just about everything.

I think there was something else to it too, like the breadwinner of this C family was out of work or...you know. Something sad.

Anyway woman B? She felt strongly that she should just, give woman C most of her furniture. She didn't go buy her some, she gave the family her own. (I think she was an empty nester herself, and woman C had kids at home.) So she took, straight out of her living room, all these couches and end tables...I think it went so far as emptying extra bedrooms of most of their furniture as well, and the kitchen table.

I can't remember the details! But here's the thing: she didn't buy new furniture for like, over a year. She and her husband just went without. I don't even think they had to, monetarily; they just did. I think they had a few folding chairs but not much else.

So woman A, telling the congregation I was a part of about this story, was a relative of woman B. And she said woman B didn't tell anyone about this, didn't seek recognition for her generous act. In fact, they had a family gathering to celebrate something at woman B's house. And the family, upon seeing there was almost no furniture in the home, asked her about it and were (understandably) quite surprised. They mostly ate on the floor, or found camping chairs or boxes or odd things to sit on. But woman B wasn't embarrassed or anything, and she basically said something along the lines of "oh, we don't need it" in response.

I LOVE this. I think I've mentioned my love/hate relationship with pinterest, because I love the idea of making a home beautiful with limited funds and some elbow grease, but I hate that it's made me self conscious about the way my own house may appear to others. And in this story, the woman's not only willingness to give of what she possessed, but also her lack of embarrassment! SHE knew what mattered. SHE was truly living as Christ would have lived.

Story #2: This I heard in a Relief Society meeting, when I was attending church at my brother Nate's ward when they were living in Provo. Again, it's a bit fuzzy...this one was more like a year ago though. And it's shorter anyway. So hopefully with it being heard more recently and it's length, you'll get the general gist.

I can't remember if the woman sharing this comment was the recipient or the one giving...but a woman, around 30, stood up and told of this woman in the ward (herself or her visiting teacher, I can't recall which) who had felt prompted to take dinner to her visiting teachee's house. And she felt flustered and embarrassed, cause she wasn't prepared for such, but she humbly took over a frozen pizza (still frozen) at about 7:00. When they answered the door, she was all apologies; she knew they had young kids and eating dinner after 7:00 can be super late for young kids, and all it was was a frozen pizza and she wished she had something more impressive to offer. Etc. Etc. But they were SO grateful for it!

I like this story for a similar reason: sometimes, I feel like I only will have worth if I do things that are impressive. That's a lot of different feelings summed up in a nutshell, I think. If I dress the best, if my kids are the best behaved, if I do the best crafts with them, if I am the most social (totally not my nature), if I have the most beautiful house, if I cook the most exquisitely.

In my mind I am PASSIONATE about people understanding that their worth is not something they earn, or that can be taken away by their or others' actions; it is God-given, and not going anywhere. But it is one thing to say such, to even feel such some of the time...and to keep it in mind when feelings of inferiority sneak in without me realizing it.

So I am, through and through, the pizza woman. I basically never am on top of things. (I was finally showered and dressed at 11:15 today, for example. My hair dried by 11:30. But it's dried! That's impressive for me!) I'm forgetful and have a hard time with ranking priorities. But I love that this story makes me feel like: I don't have to be the best cook! Or the best anything! My less-than-perfect offering is still one worth making. (I talked about this in my last lesson, just that last line...funny how I can forget to internalize well these things I so desperately want my girls to understand.) And I think, as time goes on, I'll hopefully grow to be better at some of the things I wish to be better at...but it won't be because of guilt or shame. Because as I am is worthwhile, too. Currently.

Story #3 isn't even a story, and it isn't really the same message as the first two. It was just a couple lines, uttered a couple of months ago, by a woman in my ward. She has such a soothing voice, let me tell ya. It's a pleasure to hear her speak, honestly. But that's beside the point: she started off her talk with a story about washing the dishes as a young mother (she's now in her forties I think, with grown children) with her baby playing at her feet. And this wasn't the point of the story but she said something to this effect, in passing, about washing dishes, "It's something I used to hate, but learned to love to do."

She didn't say this proudly; in fact, it wasn't even her point. (The point she did make with the story, which was about following the Spirit, was excellent as well, btw.) But this stuck out to me because, how often do I view things this way? Learning to love to do the things I currently hate doing, that I consider necessary? How often do I even TRY to adopt this? I do try to get better at the things I hate doing, I think; but do I really try to love them? I don't know. Did she? With persistent effort and a determination not to view it in a negative light anymore?

Sometimes messages kind of like this can make me feel bad, like "Great, I have TWO steps further to go. I not only need to get good at it, I need to get good at it and then LIKE it. Oi vey."

But this one didn't. Perhaps it was the gentility of the speaker, or the lack of judgment in the delivery of the message. Or something else. Whatever the reason, I was grateful to have that to think on. Learning to love washing dishes.

Pregnant with a third child? Whatevs. ...Really?

It's been interesting, being pregnant with a third. I honestly thought in some ways it wouldn't be that exciting. Maybe part of this is because I have a boy and a girl, so it seemed I'd hit what many seem to hope for. One of each!

I was surprised, and delighted, to discover that hasn't been how it is at all. Maybe I had a spell at the beginning where it wasn't that exciting, and I wasn't loving feeling sick really early this time...but I got an ultrasound where they dated me at six weeks, five days. And already, that little sea monkey had a heartbeat.

I wish I could describe sufficiently the joy this knowledge brought on. It's weird, seriously. The thing is minuscule at that point. And what am I fussing about, I already have kids. But it really hit me then. "I really am growing a baby."

There is something truly magnificent about a human life, I think. Thrilling. Miraculous. Bizarre. I mean how the heck?! How would you describe making a human child, if it were in terms of a cookbook.

Need:
1 egg
1 sperm
Directions:
Mix well; leave to rise for 9 months. Enjoy your HUMAN BEING!

It boggles my mind, that after I just go about life doing whatever, albeit slightly differently (nausea, exhaustion, discomfort blah blah) afterward a person comes out. With their own eyes, and nose, and stomach and liver and heart and brain and personality.

I know lots of people don't believe in a God, and that's their choice. But I hope they still feel the miracle, feel how astounding and incredible, this is. Life. Because it really just fills me with wonder. And...warm fuzzies.

So when I've told people I didn't find out the gender of this one, even though I could have at 16 weeks, they tell me "I guess you've got one of each!" As if why would I care? Same old, same old. I already have a boy and a girl, this one's just kind of a bonus. And I mumble agreement, hesitantly.

Really though...I can't wait for my 21 week ultrasound next Wednesday. (I didn't have one five weeks ago cause I'm cheap, and didn't want to pay the out of pocket for a Gender Check Ultrasound, not because I don't care.)

Seriously. I can't wait to find out everything I can about him/her. I love hearing it's heartbeat every OBGYN appointment I go to. I love the new feeling I've had, of it moving around. I love ticking off every week on my calendar, to the 24 week point mainly, because I've always had a sense of peace at this point (that being the age where babies have survived outside of the womb). And I love, more than knowing the gender, knowing that everything is developing as it should and my baby is okay. Because man. I want this baby to be okay.

I am PUMPED to have a third child. It doesn't mean less because there are others who've come before it; it matters because it has it's own worth, independent of where it falls in a family line up or how many of its gender has come before (or may come after).

So yeah, it's my third. But it's still amazing.