Motherhood: It's a real.......

How you finish reading the title of this post in your head will vary, depending on the day, I'm sure. At least, it will if you're a mom like me.

My entire life, all I've ever wanted is to be a wife and mother. That's it. Maybe not the biggest goals in some peoples eyes, but to me, it was the ultimate achievement. I'm not even really sure why. Maybe because my mom did everything so well I just wanted to be like her. I don't know. What I do know is that was my heart's desire.

The marriage happened in 2008, after I met the love of my life 4 years before. We have a good marriage. In my opinion, we have the best. After being married for 4 (almost 5) years, when I finally talked Dan into having a baby, I may have bitten off a bit more than I had thought about.

I basically grew up as an only child, what with Russ being so much older than me, so I hadn't really been around babies. Oh, sure, I'd seen my younger cousins when they were born, and my most recent baby experience was taking care of my great-niece Mady. I'd changed diapers for her, fed her, gave her baths, and everything. What else was there? So, I felt pretty prepared.

I absolutely loved being pregnant. It constantly amazes me how God has created us, and allows us to carry these tiny little humans while He makes them grow and form inside our bellies. I don't think I'll ever get over that. The first couple months were rough because I was sick every morning, but my husband was a complete sweetheart about it all and brought me orange juice in bed before leaving for work. He never missed a single day until I was over the morning sickness. Once I entered the second trimester, I was on cloud nine. I wasn't nearly as tired, I wasn't sick, and I had this cute little baby belly. It was awesome. The third trimester was even better. I had always heard how terrible it was and how your feet swelled so large that you couldn't walk, back pain was horrendous, and you were constantly in the bathroom. I think I was just blessed. My feet never swelled until after my son was born, I had no back pain, and I really didn't go to the bathroom much more than I usually did. And I loved my big belly! Feeling my son move was the greatest feeling in the world. I had the best birth experience, too. No, I disn't have him at home or in a birthing center. Although I admire women who choose ro do that, unmedicated, I did not want that. I was always afraid something would go wrong in the middle of the birth and I wouldn't have time to get somewhere. So, I chose to have him in a hospital. And yes, I had an epidural. I wanted to be happy through the birth. I didn't want to be cranky and exhausted the first time I saw my son. Thankfully, I wasn't.  And after he was born, I felt as though I was in a dream. When the doctor laid him on my chest for the first time, I looked in his eyes......and that was it. I was completely hooked. In love. And filled with this immediate thoughts of worry. Worry. About. Everything! But mostly in love with this little person.

His first few days were so scary for me. He would cry, and I wouldn't know why. I was scared to death that he was starving because I couldn't feel that I had any milk. It was my intention from the get go to nurse him. So much so, that I never even had a bottle. I had just decided I was nursing and that was that. It never occurred to me that I wouldn't have enough milk for him, so I'm sure you can understand my devastation when not only do I have to feed him formula, but after he takes it, he throws up. Within the first 2 weeks of his life, he saw his pediatrician twice, an urgent care doctor and a chiropractor. He wasn't gaining weight and was crying all the time. I was a nervous wreck. I think the main reason I was so nervous is because it had never occurred to me that I wouldn't have the most perfect baby ever.

See, I had this naive vision about this "perfect baby". And not only a perfect baby, but the perfect life. The baby would only cry when he was hungry, he would sleep peacefully in his bassinet while I would cook hot meals to have for my husband when he came home, and people would talk about what a perfect baby he was. Yeah. That didn't happen.........as I'm sure it doesn't happen with most new mothers.

I wasn't able to do anything. I could barely even leave the couch. The baby needed to be held all the time, because if I laid him down, he'd cry. I felt like the biggest failure as a mother. I mean, I was comforting my child, but it wasn't long term. I couldn't carry on a conversation with my husband.....or really anyone......because I couldn't focus. I couldn't leave the house because my son would cry and scream so intensely that I was sure people would think I was hurting him. I was slowly sinking into a depression worse than postpartum. Poor Dan would look at me and say "Are you sure THIS is making you happy?!" What could I do? I knew something was wrong. I knew that he couldn't just be that miserable.

I finally started listening to the mother voice in me and not everyone else. After watching him while he ate, in between times, and talking to the pediatrician, it was discovered that he had acid reflux. Acid reflux! In a baby!! I couldn't believe it, but after just one dose of the medicine, he made a drastic change and I knew he was better. It didn't completely change the crankiness, though. Don't get me wrong, he was 100% better. I wasn't wanting to run up and down the street screaming after that. I was able to talk to people again, but something else was still wrong. 

I then changed the formula that he was on. I had been told by the chiropractor that he was probably allergic to the cows milk formula, so we had switched him to soy....which seemed to constipate him. So before we discovered the acid reflux, the doctor changed him back to a milk based formula. I felt like it was still wrong, so I moved him to a hypoallergenic formula. This really helped! After being on it for a couple weeks, he was really changing. 
It was about that time when it was pointed out to me by an aunt (and probably the 4th or 5th person in general) about how he leaned his head to the left. All the time. I finally got ahold of my motherly fears and got a grip on my senses and took him for his first chiropractor adjustment. It's a scary thing taking your 3 month old to be "cracked", as my dad would say. Thankfully we have a wonderful pediatric chiropractor who explained to me that he's not really cracking anything, just using a very small amount of pressure to move things back where they need to go. With babies, mostly they just have cartiledge, so there's not really any moving of bones involved. This has done the trick. Talk about changing a baby! He's completely different. His moods are so much better that I'm starting to feel more like I thought I would. Excited to spend my days with this happy little boy that smiles all the time. 

Now, he still cries. He's very opinionated. He knows what he wants and when he wants it, but it doesn't drive me to distraction. And he comes by it honest. 

So, to complete my original thought, motherhood can be a real....pain, hardship, blessing, joy, scary thing, and amazing experience that any mother will tell you is the greatest thing she's ever done. Because when I wake up and see his little face smiling back at me (yes, we co-sleep, no I don't think it's the worst decision ever), I thank God for this sweet baby. I could have a lot more money and time to myslef, but I wouldn't have him. He's worth it. And even at my worst moment, I know that I'm doing the best thing that I will ever do. 

I try not to, but I know sometimes I take him for granted. Just a couple weeks ago, a cousin of mine gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, and at the same time she was in labor, I learned of a friends miscarriage. It could have been me. I'm so thankful that God saw fit to bless our lives with this amazing little person and I can't wait to get to know him. 

               Love you, Declan Jude. 

The Smothering Feeling......Nesting, maybe?

I feel as though I'm about to be smothered by an overhelming sense of urgency. 

But why?

I guess it's because I'm getting so close to the birth of our first child. At least that's what I'm going to blame it on. It seems I see an urgent need to do something......well.......everywhere. Is this the "neesting" that I've heard so much about? If so, I'm not sure I care for it. It's not just at home when I feel it, it's at the store, too. I will have a thought, and realize that I see 10 things that need to be accomplished........yesterday. Then when I am at home, I get to thinking about how much stuff is in our small little house, and how there's no room for everything, and how we're getting ready to have another person living here, and there will be even more stuff as time goes on, and where exactly am I going to put it all?!?!?!?!

It's about that time when I start trying to calm myself down, and say that we just need to take things one day at a time. Thankfully, babies don't arrive with luggage, so we'll survive. Once I get calmed down from that, I realize I just have about 5 weeks left. 5 WEEKS! Basically one month. Do I have the nursery ready? No. Do I have all of his clothes washed and put away so I won't have to worry about laundry for a couple days? No. Do we have a name picked out? NO! 

So after this realization hits home, the smothering feeling comes back. 

The other problem with this "smothering feeling" (hereafter called SF), is that it's intermittent. One minute it's there, strong as ever, and the next, I am the most relaxed person you have ever seen. I don't really know how this works, if it's a hormone imbalance, or an emotional breakdown of sorts, or what exactly happens in your body to cause this feeling, but I have to say it is my least favorite part of this whole experience so far. 

Granted, I've had some pain and discomfort, and in all honesty I know that will just continue to get stronger over the next month, but in reality, I've had a tremendously easy pregnancy. 

My morning sickness was minimal, and limited to the first trimester, I've gained (so far) 19 lbs. Perfect blood pressure, no diabetes, no problems at all, really, thank you, Lord. And I really have enjoyed being pregnant. It has been amazing to watch myself grow, week after week, month after month, and to start feeling him move was that best thing ever. Maybe I just feel that way because I've wanted this for so long, I really don't know. Ever since I was a little girl, I've wanted to be a mommy, and now that it's actually happening, the thought is terrifying. 

I remember having somthing similar to the "SF" about the time I got married. 

The house had been bought, and Dan was living there, the invitations out, the church decorated, my dress was hanging in the doorway, ready to be worn.........and the day before the wedding, I freaked. I remember spending the entire day in tears. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop crying. And not tears of joy, mind you, it was tears of "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm actually doing this.........why didn't someone talk me out of it!! What's wrong with me?!?!?!" 

Now, when you read that, I know you're thinking something like "If you didn't love him and want to marry him, why did you do it, you dope?" But that's not true at all. I did love Dan. I love him even more now, but the thought of my life changing so dramatically in the span of one day was not appealing in the least. You could say I'm not good with change. Changes are good, and needful, in many situations, and I'm so glad that I went through with the wedding the next day, but thinking so much about how things were going to be "so different" is how I got in trouble. 

I feel as though the same thing is happening here. I have people every day, saying the same things over, and over, and over. The conversation seems to flow like this: 

Random person: "Oh, you're pregnant! When are you due?

Me: "December 14th" 

RP: "Oh, my goodness, well, that's just right around the corner! It will be here before you know it. Do you know what you're having?"

Me: "It's a boy!" 

RP: "A boy?!? Isn't that just the sweetest thing. I supposed you have a name all picked out for him?"

Me: "No, we haven't really decided on anything yet. It's kind of hard to choose." 

RP: "Well, that's alright. Sometimes you need to look at them first. I'm telling you, honey, get ready for your life to CHANGE! Ain't nothing going to turn your world upside down like a baby." 

Now, do you see why these conversations freak me out a little? I'm not comfortable with change, and I have these people, all day, every day, shoving it down my throat about how different things will be. I know things will be different, but they don't have to be *that* different. 

As it comes down to the wire, I will be glad to spend the last couple weeks at home, and away from the people that make me the most nervous. Then perhaps my nesting will kick in completely and I can actually get everything done that needs to be done, which is preparing my home, myself, and my husband for the arriving of our son. Because, even though I'm a nervous wreck, as I have never done anything like this before, I am still so anxious to meet this wonderful little person, and learn all I can about him........I just hope he has a name soon. 

Let me tell you a story.......

Once upon a time........well, let's not start this way. This isn't a fairy tale. Those don't exist in real life, but this is probably as close to one as you can get. 

It all started in 2004.

I was 16 when my brother started searching for a guitar player for a bluegrass gospel band he had formed called "Mount Zion". He had been to Nashville to record their first nationally released CD, and had been told by Jeff and Ray Deaton that, although Russ was perfectly fine as a guitar player for the group, he needed to be playing mandolin......because......well, if you've ever heard Russ play mandolin, you would know that he can pick one so hot it almost catches fire. So, their reasoning was sound, but finding a guitar player of the quality Russ would want was going to be hard. 

One day shortly following this fateful trip, a semi-frequent customer came in the store. He knew of Russ' trip to Nashville and the band formation, so he asked how things were going. When Russ explained the events of the trip, the customer said "Well, I may know of someone for you. He's a Mennonite, but he's the finest guitar picker I've heard." Russ responded with a look of confusion, and the statement that Mennonites don't play music. The man assured Russ that, although he would normally agree with him, this was not a normal case. So, Russ agreed to meet with the supposed "Mennonite". 

After their first meeting, I asked Russ how things went. He said "Well, he was right. That kid is fine. He's 21.....and probaby one of the best guitar players I've ever heard." My first thought was "21 and a guitar player! I've got to meet this guy!" So when I voiced this thought to Russ, his reply was......... well, not very enthusiastic. I was basically told the guy wasn't my type, and to forget about it. So I did. Until the next practice was set. I made sure that I ran late enough to still be at the store for when it started. I'll never forget the first time I heard him play. I was in with a student, and couldn't even see him, but I heard a guitar break, and was so impressed! I remember thinking "If this guy looks half as good as he plays, I'm going for it!". So, I finished up with my student and headed out front to see what was what. When I walked out and saw him.....the player of the guitar....the...."Mennonite"......He wasn't at all what I expected. He was......skinny.....short......and wore huge glasses. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, and looked like he hadn't shaved in a day or two. I probably don't have to tell you this, but at 16, when your hormones are going crazy and you have certain ideas of how someone should look or act, you tend to sluff off anything that doesn't fit in the tiny box that is your mind. So I think I nodded and maybe said hello before I made a beeline for the door. 

No. He wasn't what I was looking for. 

Over the course of the next few months, I had my 17th birthday, and life was pretty much the normal. Mom, dad, and myself started going to several Mount Zion shows........you know.......to support Russ. I enjoyed going to the shows, and was really starting to enjoy looking at the new guitar player. I didn't like the fact that I was enjoying it, but I reeally couldn't help myself. I mean, he was too skinny and short. He was not my type at all. (Because we all know at 17 everyone has their type picked out.)

In April of 2005, Russ was going to a local studio to start work on the next Mount Zion CD project, with the new arrangement. It would feature several old standards, and lots of original material. I remember being told about one particular studio trip where  Russ says he was asked tons of questions about me on the way there by a certain skinny guitarist. I wondered why in the world he was asking about me?? Maybe he caught me staring at him at one of the shows and thinks I'm some kind of psyco?  I tried not to think about it too much and just go on. Yeah. That didn't work. 

By June, one of us, and I still to this day don't know which one, decided to start talking to the other one. I realized that he had a subtle sense of humor that most everyone he was around didn't pick up on, so it made it really funny. Plus he had a sweet spirit about him, and he seemed very kind. The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. One night that same month, I decided to go out on a limb and invite him to my house for supper. He was in town for a show and Russ and Skyla had plans with her partents, so I thought "what better excuse?" When I asked him, I don't know that he took me seriously right away, but after I insisted, he accepted and a plan was made for me to pick him up. When the hour arrived and I pulled in at the music store........well, let's just say we both got some looks. I didn't really care, Supper went good, except for one incident with a salt shaker that I won't reveal the details of. And we even took a picture to commemorate the event. 

                                         

Aftter that night, we were pretty much really good friends. We talked every few days and emailed some. Being an hour and a half from each other, that was pretty much our options. And I mean, we were, after all, just good friends, so what more did we need?

In July, I invited him up for my 18th birthday where we argued over what part of my cake he would eat, and then went for a drive to the Louisburg picnic where our lives changed forever. I don't know how it happened (I say that a lot in this story), but when we left the picnic that night, we were a couple. Then is when the real phone conversations started. The monday following my birthday, we talked for 3 hours.....but that was nothing in the grand scheme of things. We once stayed on the phone for 8, with most of the conversations averaging 4-5. As I say, we were 1 1/2 hours apart, with him not driving, so building a relationship on that type of situation isn't easy. We called, we emailed, and waited until a show came up so we could see each other. Weeks turned to months, arguments happened, things were forgiven, many shows passed, and finally an opportunity arose for him to move to Buffalo. Thankfully, he took it. 

Dating seriously changes when you're used to having phone conversations to get you by for 2 months at a time, then all of a sudden you can see each other every day. It was pretty awesome, and I'm sure I  took advantage many times, and drove him crazy. I just couldn't help myself. I was so in love with this man, who, thanks to mine and mom's cooking, wasn't so skinny and short anymore. My 20th birthday was what we counted as our 2 year dating anniversary. I wasn't really expecting anything, but I was hoping. I had been after him for a while to make a move. His proposal was quirky, and completely untraditional. Pretty much our whole relationship. I of course said yes, and we set the wedding date for one year and one month away. 

                                                       

A lot can hapen in a year. Even a lot of things that can test a relationship's strength. It was during this time that my mom was first diagnosed with cancer and I learned how much that I needed him. He was there for me the entire time. Mom lost her arm during that year, but she was still there for every step of my wedding planning, and anxious for me to get married. She told me that she knew she wouldn't always be with me and she wanted to know I would be taken care of. So the wedding went on as scheduled.  Our first year was hard, as is everyones, because learning to live with someone is hard work. But, I think it's safe to say that we handled things well, and eventually adjusted to each other. 

I learned so much during those dating years, but it never compairs with living with someone. First off, I thought when we were dating that he just didn't like his full name. Wrong. He HATES being called by his full name. There is no "Daniel" in our house. There is Dan. And he likes beans for breakfast. He occasionally likes mustard on his sandwhiches and desperately needs time to himself whenever he can. He was not a Mennonte, regardless of other peoples opinion. He pretty much has to drink with a straw. He likes to be taken care of when he's really sick, but when he's just a little sick, you best leave him alone. He loves his routein, and doesn't like breaking it for anyone. And this is just a teeny tiny portion of things that I have learned.......and sometimes learned the hard way. 

When I said a lot can happen in a year, take that times 5 and that brings us to now. We've had countless arguments, just as many make up sessions, 4 promotions, 1 job location change, overnight shifts, family events and celebrations, church services, and just last year we lost mom. She was right when she said that I would be taken care of. Dan was with me through it all, being my strength, holding me when I felt like I would fall, and being a shoulder when I just needed to cry. I couldn't have made it through without him. 

And now we're entering another new and exciting chapter by adding in a sweet little boy. This pregnancy is something that I am enjoying so much! I'm sure that by the end of it, though, it will be another test of our marriage......as will the raising of our child. I don't have any doubts about wether we'll make it though. I signed on for the long haul, and I know he did too.  

Happy number 5, honey. I love you.

And they lived most blessedly together forever. 

The end. 

The pregnancy hoax?

So the doctors say your pregnant? 

Congratulations! 

Now what?

You wait, that's what. 

I'm sure part of it is the anticipation of seeing our first little one, but it seems as though time is going slowly. Another part is probably because I found out so early. I suspected my pregnancy 6 days before I took my first positive home test, and 11 days before I had a confirmed test by a doctor. At the time of the doctor visit I was told I was 5 weeks along. So I guess you could say I'm one of those women who knew right away. I managed to keep it a secret from everyone (except Dan of course) for another 2-3 weeks until I went to an OB/GYN and get completely checked out. Luckily for me I felt bigger than I needed to be for 7 weeks, so I got an early ultrasound. I say luckily because I think that was the only thing that truly made my mind accept that there was a baby in there! 

After that first doctor's visit, I felt normal for a couple days. Then, the morning sickness came. Once it was here, I hated it. Mostly because it wasn't "morning" sickness. I was sick all day. Sick and exhausted. By the time that I went back to the doctor at about 11 1/2 weeks, I was sure I was going to need some kind of pill or something. It turns out the only pill I needed was a good talking to by my doctor, who reminded me that everything was normal and that once I hit my second trimester if things weren't better she would prescribe something for me. Once that second trimester was here, it was like everything was over. Once I was able to get up right away of a morning, and stay up later than 7:30 at night, I felt like I had dreamed everything. I still wasn't showing and I wasn't sick. So what happened to the baby? 

Once I hit about 15 weeks, I "popped". My belly started sticking out and once again I felt like there was actually something happening in there. At my next doctors appointment, I was asked if I felt the baby move yet. Move? I still wasn't completely sure there was actually anything in there! I asked if I should be feeling it move by now, and they said it's not very common. Most women don't feel their babies until at least 18 weeks. I listened to a sweet heartbeat, that I'm pretty sure wasn't mine, and I was once again reassured that this wasn't some huge joke that someone was playing on me........until now.

Although my stomach is still growing, here I am at almost 18 weeks and haven't felt movement. So now I just feel fat. Every pregnancy is different, so I know there is still a baby in there, and I get to go to the doctor in less than 2 weeks. Once I'm there I get to see how much it has grown, by having my first ultrasound in 12 weeks. I'm very much looking forward to it. I will also get to stop referring to my child as "it". Lord willing and the baby cooperates, we'll know if it's a he or a she. 

Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to be a mommy. While there were other things that piqued my interest, having a husband and family of my own is the only thing that I have ever wanted. And now after 4+ years of marriage, we came to a point where we said "ok, it's time." 

The fact that I didn't have any younger siblings, and had never seen my mother pregnant worried Dan. I am the youngest of 2, he is the oldest of 9, so he had seen more pregnancy than he cared to know about. Not to mention the fact that most of those were home births, so all he wanted to tell me was how much I was going to scream during the birth and how horrible my hormones would be while I was carrying this child. I know I've had bad moments, but I'm hoping I'm not near the terror he was imagining. 

I remember when we first started dating and we would talk about getting married and having kids. We had a fight once about me giving birth at home. He wanted me to, and I........well.....didn't. There is no part of my brain at all that says this would be a good idea. At all. My idea of a safe birth is in a hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses and access to drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. I didn't say that I will be using them, but it's nice to know they are there should the need arise. Plus I have lots of back and pelvis issues and I'm not even sure that I can give birth the natural way. After a lot of talking and explaining my feelings, Dan seems to have crossed over, and is now completely for the whole hospital birth thing. Which makes me feel even better. 

If you are one of the many women out there that gave birth at home, kudos. I admire you and think you are very brave. If you also went completely drug free, again I say you are an amazing person. I don't feel that I have the strength to do it. 

I know all these feelings are normal for a "first timer" and even through the sickness and the worry......and even though there is years and years of sickness and worry to come.....I have to say I'm enjoying the ride this far. 

I'm Baaaaack!

Well, everyone, I have finally returned. As I'm sure you noticed (or at least I hope you noticed), I have been MIA for quite sometime now. To tell the truth, writing in my blog has not been my number one priority. There have been so many changes and issues to get through the last few months, it's been all I could do to survive my normal day to day, much less try to write down how I'm feeling about it. 

For the past 9 months, I've been trying to function as a full grown adult with, what feels like, a little girl trapped inside. And if it were up to the little girl, and if I would allow myself, I could slip so easily into a deep depression that I know not how I could escape from, that I would wind up spending all day, every day, in bed.....eating. "All this is because your mom died?"  Yes. I know that it's difficult for some people to understand, but it's true.

The past couple of months have been better, and some days I'm actually glad to be out of bed. 

I've often thought of seeing a psychiatrist about my depression issues. It's still not out of the question, and has even been suggested to me by a few people.......my husband being one of them. I told him I would go if he would. We've kind of stalled out there. I actually feel like that with God's help, I'll eventually get passed a lot of this, and He has helped me a lot already, so I will probably just wait and see how it goes. 

 

Dan and I found out the first part of April that we are to be parents come December, and while I was so happy and excited to find out, I also felt a deep sense of guilt and sadness at the same time. My first thought was that my mom wasn't going to see it. I had several days of crying and praying and talking to various family members after that day, just so I could get a grip and understand that mom wouldn't be mad at me for going on living without her, and that everything would be ok. 

When I told Dan how I was feeling, his response was a simple question; "Knowing everything your mom went through, would you really have wanted to have a baby before she passed?" 

I had never thought about it that way, and he was right of course. It all comes back to the fact that God's timing is perfect. Regardless of wether we see it or not, He's got everything under control. 

He is sending us this baby when He wants it to come, and that is something to be thankful for. 

I'm nervous about this baby. For several reasons. Normal everyday new mom things.....I hope.

 The main one being that I've never had a child before and I don't know what to expect. I don't handle pain well, so I've already told my doctor that I want drugs. No joke, I'll take whatever kind they want to give me and as soon as they want to give it. Lol. 

Next, I'm afraid that I'm not going to know what to so with this kid once I get it home. I mean, what if it cries all the time and I can't get it to stop no matter what? Am I going to have the natural instincts to handle that? I've always heard that when it's your child it's different. Everything just comes to you, and is completely natural. I pray this is true, and everything will go as it should. My main prayer is that the baby is healthy. 

Dan says that I should worry about him because he doesn't think he'll be that great of a dad. I, however, disagree. I think that, like me, he'll have a hard time at first, but when we survive those first few weeks (months), he'll be a natural. He's already showing signs of greatness by worrying that he won't be good enough. He wants to make sure he's a good provider.....that his child is going to have bigger and better opportunities than he had. He's talking about traits that he hopes the baby will and will not inherit from him......and me. 

To me, these are all signs of good dad material. Though he hasn't said it in the conventional way yet, I know he loves this baby. He proves that by going to work every day to provide for us, by helping me pick out names (even though he doesn't want to, and would rather leave the name blank so the child can pick it out on their own), and by helping me out whenever he can. I read once that the very best way to be a good dad is by loving the baby's mother. I think he can handle that. 

I always remember my mom's words of advice when it came to Dan and children; "He'll be really good to you when you're carrying the baby, but don't be upset when he doesn't get all excited about it. He won't think a thing about it other than worrying about money and you. But once he is there with you when you have it, he'll love it, and that baby will be have him wrapped around it's finger." 

Mom was a smart lady. <3 And I'm counting on her to be right this time. 

December is still pretty far away and it will be a while before I know the answers to all my questions, so until then, I'll continue to think about names on my own, buy little baby things, imagine what he/she looks like, and pray that it's growing healthy inside me. You know. Mom things.