As of 1:00 PM last Friday, we have one week of school under our belt, and all the angels sang, “Hallelujah!” This back-to-school season has been good, but exhausting, with all of the parent-meeting-attending and school-supply-shopping and routine-establishing majorly complicated by…wait for it…FIRST TRIMESTER NAUSEA AND FATIGUE! Yep, that’s right: there’s another Watty heading our way. When I am awake and thinking clearly (a rare occurrence), I am thrilled. So is everyone else in the household except for Leah, who remains mercifully oblivious.
When we told my side of the family, I couldn’t resist quoting Jim Gaffigan: “People want to know what it’s like to have a fourth child. Well, imagine you are drowning. And then someone hands you a baby.”
And yet as I have said before, parenthood is nothing if not a parade of moments of irrational optimism. So, here we are, eagerly holding out our arms for that little bundle of joy and sleeplessness.
We have always enjoyed coming up with temporary monikers for our pre-born children: kicking off the fun with Turniphead, followed by Cheerio, Tres, and Four. Stephen gets all the credit for this baby’s perfect womb name: Caboose! (The joke is on all of us if this ends up NOT being our last baby, as planned.)
Here’s something funny: when it’s your fifth pregnancy, sometimes your stomach “pops” before you even realize you even need to take a pregnancy test. It’s such a cute contrast to my first time around, when I wore my regular jeans TO MY 20 WEEK ULTRASOUND APPOINTMENT. Somewhere along the way, my abs have just given up.
The other day Abby tried to get me to eat some weird thing off her plate by offering to give me a dollar. The utter absurdity of her thinking I’d be tempted by her dollar (which she probably got from me) led me to brief spiritual reflection on the human tendency to negotiate with God on similar terms. For me, this urge intensifies when I’m pregnant, when I catch my subconscious mind having thoughts like, “If you’ll make sure this baby is healthy, we promise he’ll be part of family worship every night of his life.” It was just a good reminder about who really holds all the cards.
We have lots of new/young moms in our social circles, and I’m feeling very aware of how much the baby-stuff culture has changed since Abby was born and I acquired most of our baby gear. Baby stuff (and maternity fashion!) is tres chic these days! Part of me is a little sad that this is probably our last rodeo, because that makes it hard to justify upgrading any of my perfectly-fine stuff for a newer model. And yet, for the things that do need to be replaced, it’s hard not to think…”Bleehhhh, I have to buy a whole new XXX just for one baby?” (Poor Caboose. Don’t take any of this personally!)
For old time’s sake, here are some of my favorite past-pregnancy posts:
Not Such a Fashion Low, After All: My first time to buy maternity pants
It’s Not You, It’s Me: In which I “go on a break” with sleep as I prepare for Abby’s arrival
Ready! (Or Not): Waiting for Jem AKA “Baby Tres” to arrive
Nesting for the Digital Age: Reading this list of things I did to hurry along Jem’s arrival makes me tired.
Somehow, it keeps coming back to feet: One of my favorites from the last weeks of waiting for Leah