Hello Again

I have not posted in months. In fact the entire year was a little dismal on the blogging front. But there were good reasons. In August, I got pregnant. I had been talking myself into it for at least a year. I knew there was one more baby. But the thought of being pregnant was just too much for me. The morning sickness, the worry, getting fat, more worry, more fat. And then one day I woke up and knew it was time. And before I knew it I was pregnant. And giddy. And I felt good. For 7 blissful weeks. I had a happy little secret. And then at about week 8 that giddiness faded into full blown morning sickness. I felt horrible. For about 20 weeks. I woke up feeling sort of ok. And then by about 4:00 I was done. In bed, trying to breathe through the nausea. Until the heartburn hit. And then I wanted to cry. So, I just fell asleep instead. It kind of sucked. Jeff did everything. Made sandwiches and cold cereal for dinner. Did math homework and spelling sorts and sight words. And then about two weeks ago, I woke up and felt better. And instead of the nausea, there were little flutters and kicks.

And then it was my birthday. A kind of happy accident that my ultrasound was the same day. So early that morning we got up, hurried the boys out the door and the littles off to my friends. We drove to the Dr. and waited nervously. There was a lot riding on this ultrasound. Namely, the happiness of one little five year old girl. A little girl that wanted a sister more than anything in the world. I was OK either way. Part of me was a little sad to find out. Jeff didn't understand. But to me, it was so final. This is my last baby. I have spent the past 5 months imagining what this babe will be like, what if it's a boy, what will we name him, will he be blond or a brownie. And if its a girl, will she be like Paige, what will we name her...on and on. The dreaming is part of the process. And I wasn't sure if I was ready to know, to put part of that dream away. And then the nurse called my name and I squeezed Jeff's hand tight. And minutes later that sweet little babe was kicking away on the screen. And I was in awe, like I am every time. That something so tiny and perfect was part of me, growing inside of me. I loved that baby already, boy or girl. So she pushed and prodded, trying to get our little babe to turn this way or that. And finally, the baby turned and the nurse told us it was a girl. My breath caught a little. She said it so matter of fact, like it wasn't going to change our lives forever. I laid on that bed and silent tears rolled down my cheeks. Happy tears. And I knew I would have done it all over again. Boy or girl. I would have taken 20 weeks of anything for this baby.
And that is why I haven't been blogging. And it was all worth it.