Pregnancy rambling.

I'm so sick. So sick. And I'm tired. So tired I feel like I could sleep all day (I really probably could if our lifestyle allowed for that sort of thing). I can hardly make it through church (that is no reflection of the fellowship or message, simply my fatigue). Last night I was feeling so awful I couldn't help but moan loudly, so loudly that Peter stopped what he was doing and turned to me, "Are you really alright, Love?" Don't mind me, I just sound like a cow with the stomach flu. Whatever that would even sound like. Then my mind started to wander and I thought of the many many women in the world that have awful pregnancies the whole 9 months. For them, the second trimester isn't a period of relief before the agonizing third. Then I imagined what it would be like if I were one of those women, and my chest felt like it was closing in and suddenly my breathing quickened and shortened. I panicked. 


Lord, please don't let that be me!
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A recurring discussion in our house lately is whether we'll find out the sexes of these little ones or not. Originally Peter was wholly set on waiting for the birth as "there are so few surprises in life", and I was entirely decided on finding out, merely for planning and decorating purposes. But that doesn't work. We can't be divided. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it from him if only I were to find out because we have no secrets. But, for about a whole minute during my second ultrasound Peter's mind changed. . . and then changed again. But lately, mine has been changing too.


However, I don't want to buy yellow and green with ducks and frogs. I want my babies in blue polos and khakis or lacy pink dresses and white eyelet flats. But, I also want the anticipation of not knowing to keep me eager towards the last months when I feel as though I might explode. And I want the excitement of delivering and hearing "Baby A is out-- it's a girl! Baby B is out. . ." And then we have to pull out our list of names and stare these two new children in the face and decide who and what they look like. Maybe we'll need four boy names, or four girl names, or two of each. (Oh, names, you will be the death of me. . .they are an entirely new topic for an entirely new day).
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I remember the day my mom went to the doctor for her regular 20 week ultrasound when she was pregnant with their seventh. Of course we weren't going to find out what it was-- we never had in the past, why would we now? Well, those were the days my mom had a gaggle of very young kids trailing behind her all the time and so she rarely thought twice about taking all six of us to the hospital with her. We took up the entire room, spread out on the bed, the several chairs available, the floor, wherever we could see the screen. And then the ultrasound technician said, "It's a boy!" without even asking whether we wanted to know or not. Right then and there nearly all of us burst into tears. I'm not sure whether it was because she ruined the surprise for us or because it was the fifth boy in a row, perhaps a combination of both. But we cried. Even the boys. At that point, they were even wanting a sister. But that was little Nolan David, and not one of us could imagine life without him.
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And so, where we stand right now: we're waiting for the surprise. But, things are ever-changing around here. Who knows! And knowing how thrilled we were just to have heard their heartbeats and see their little bodies for the first time, it's quite possible that at 20 weeks we wont't be able to bear the suspense anymore and will give in. That is very possible.


I loved seeing their tiny hearts pounding on the monitor. We could actually see them beating. How incredible is that? I sobbed and sobbed. And thinking about two tiny hearts beating inside me is surreal. It doesn't even seem possible, but yet it's so natural! How is does that even work?


For those that are interested, here's about what Baby A and Baby B look like now. Teeny tiny munchkins, they are.

-A.H.