The Best Mother's Day Gift - Ever

Seth Morgan arrived on Friday after a quick and painless (!!) labor. He weighed in at 9 lbs 6 oz, and so far everyone is doing well.



We came home today, and what a great way to spend Mother's Day - with my two beautiful sons.

Tick Tock

In three months, give or take a week, I will welcome a new baby into my home. This is something that SuperHubby and I prayed about, and that we both wanted very badly. But as countdown to baby number two continues, I do not find myself rejoicing and longing to hold his tiny hands. Instead I am reduced to an inanimate lump of molten, abject terror.

Maybe it's because I have finally settled into something resembling a routine, after more than a year of sleeping, eating, cleaning, showering whenever I could. Maybe I've just become used to a child who sleeps 10 straight hours. I've become accustomed to a couple of uninterrupted hours of computer or TV time at night, no demands, no wailing, hungry, fretful children to keep me from taking time for myself. I hate that I am already fretting over giving that up once S. arrives.

I know, in reality, that three months is a very long time. I don't need to be worried that we are not even close to ready to move Tom into his big-boy room. I have time to accomplish all I have set out to do. But I am having misgivings over my decision to try to move him out of the crib and into a real bed before the baby is born. My mother reminds me regularly that she thinks moving him out of his crib is a terrible idea. I'm starting to believe her. If I don't move him, though, I will have to buy another crib. And I really don't want to do that.

Unlike with Tom, where I (falsely) had a sense of security bestowed on me by the dozens of baby-care books I devoured, I have no such comfort with this child. Even though I will have nearly two years of mothering experience under my belt by the time S. comes along, I am sure that I won't know what to do. I have no sense of security in my abilities to parent two children with such very different needs at the same time.

I want so badly to feel like this, but I don't.

I want to be glowing with the joy and wonder at the miracle that is happening every second inside my body, instead of sitting on hot packs because somehow I ended up with a shooting pain in my backside and left leg this time around. I want to be enjoying the baby's kicks, punches, jabs and rolls, not resenting the fact that putting on socks is already difficult for me.

It's sort of the way I felt about Christmas this year. I knew it was coming, the cheerful holiday presence loomed over my head and blasted from store speakers starting around mid-October. I had plenty of time and warning to prepare. But I dragged my feet. I didn't want to buy Christmas gifts before Halloween. I didn't want to plan menus and shopping lists and day trips and everything else to keep my family happy over the holidays. As a result, when I finally got around to completing these tasks, I was rushed and frustrated. Although the holidays went well, they were not the exciting family time I had anticipated. We spent a lot of time sitting around staring at our hands because I had not done a good job planning day trips and activities.

I feel like that's how it's going to go with this baby, too. I feel unprepared. And messing up Christmas is not nearly as bad as messing up my kids because I didn't know what to do.

Life's a Gas, Literally

During this pregnancy, I have had more (excuse me) ... urrrrp ... gas than I thought any human being could produce. Homer Simpson, with his lips vibrating, wavelike, while he belches, would be a good comparison to how I look most evenings after 5 p.m.

We've been joking that the baby wants to learn to burp the alphabet. Precocious boy that he is, he's having mommy learn now, so that she can teach him later. Tom is learning his alphabet the old-fashioned way, but not this baby. Nuh uh.

It seems that I will be out testosteroned in the Wishful Thinking household, with a male dog, two sons and a husband.

Our technician yesterday was absolutely wonderful, and took her time poking around to get excellent shots of all the important things - the cerebellum, the arms, hands and fingers, the eyes and mouth, the four-chamber heart. Baby's spine and femur were measured, and she even took a peek to make sure his kidneys were where they were supposed to be.

It took a couple of passes between the legs before anything was visible. For quite some time we didn't see any boy parts, and we all wondered if this would finally be the first granddaughter. But then, with the wizardry that is ultrasound, we saw the unmistakable sign that we would be having another son.

Our littlest man did not like the ultrasound wand, and kicked like crazy whenever the tech tried to focus in on him. I thought this was great, since my anterior placenta has kept me from feeling much movement to this point.

He is healthy, and sound, and likes to suck on his fingers. I can't wait to meet him, and at least I won't have to worry about Bratz dolls.

Absent

A busted computer really cuts into your Internet time.

Sorry I've been gone for so long, brave and faithful readers. But I'll be back, and soon, I hope. Still no word on when Zoe will make it back home, but I'm hoping before Christmas. I really, really miss her.

On the good news front ... today is the big ultrasound! I am hoping this baby will be less modest than the Tominator, and I will be able to share with you what variety of baby we will be expecting in the spring. If you read this before 1:30 EST, think PINK please. (Boys are lovely too. But healthy is the most lovely, really.)

Ok, I hope to have something interesting to tell you in a few hours.

Happy Face

My baby has a face. It's a little sad that I just realized this yesterday. Until that point, in my mind she was still a little bean, a little lump of cells without any real definition.

She's been growing inside of me for 14 weeks now, persistently asserting her independence by telling when to eat, what not to eat, and when to bring everything I've eaten back up again. When her brother was this age, I knew everything there was to know about his development. I knew when his heart started beating, when he grew eyelids and ears, when his fingerprints developed.

But things have been different with this one. I've been so busy keeping up with life that I haven't thought much about the life that is growing inside of me.

So yesterday, when I realized my baby has a face, with eyelids and a nose and a beautiful mouth, I was surprised and ecstatic. How did she grow so fast? I wondered. She would nearly fill the palm of my hand if I could hold her, but I hope not to do that for many months yet.

She has ears and fingers and toes and if I could see her, I could confirm for you that she is, in fact female. Or maybe she's really a he. It will be a while until we find out.

She is beginning to be able to hear, a feat SuperHubby was glad learn last night. "I should be singing to her," he smiled, as he pressed his mouth close to my belly. "Hi baby, this is your Daddy. Be nice to mommy."

Wednesday Joy

This morning, just shy of dawn, I heard my son stirring in his crib. He was chattering sorrowfully to his stuffed duck. I cracked open my heavy eyelids and prayed he'd go back to sleep.

"Just 30 minutes more," I silently begged. "Just 30 minutes more."

But his pathetic conversation continued, and I there was no way I could leave him in his crib when he sounded so sad.

I hauled myself out of bed and down the stairs to his room. He was laying on his stomach in his crib, running his hand along the rails like a prisoner runs a tin cup along the bars of his jail cell.

My half-asleep heart melted.

I bundled him up and carried him and his duck downstairs, where we set up shop on the couch. He promptly snuggled down on my chest and went right back to sleep. And so did I.

What a lovely way to spend my morning - stretched out on my couch, cradling my baby.