The Perfect Name

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Before my husband and I started even coming close to having children we made a list of names, both for boys and girls, that we both liked.  Interestingly enough we had at least 10 boy names at the time and barely any girl names.  So when we had our first boy there was no question. We knew exactly what we wanted to name him. This was the case for all three of the boys. Every time I would get pregnant we would know exactly what our boy name would be but would labor long over just one girl name we were happy with. 

It's also strange because even though we never used any of our girl names we would never carry those names over to the next pregnancy. By the time I would get pregnant again that name just didn't seem to fit.  

Well, this time has been completely different.  We had our girl name picked out way before I got pregnant and had absolutely no idea what boy name we both liked.  In my superstitious mind I thought, "Well, maybe this means I'm finally having a girl!"  We never find out what we are having so I still won't know for sure until October when the baby finally decides to show us its true gender but the farther along I go in this pregnancy the more I have this overwhelming feeling that we are having another boy.  I can't really explain it, it just seems like I am.

I even went so far as to take several online gender prediction tests. Okay, so I know that those things are completely crazy! I do find myself wondering how my age and the date I conceived has ANYTHING at all to do with my baby's gender. I even ran across a blog where a woman was swearing that the sure way to tell is to look at the hair line of the child born before this one.  CRAZY! So I admit that nothing can be relied on with these tests but I just couldn't help it.  As you guessed, almost all the tests I took proclaimed that I was having a boy. So we'll see. 

All this has spurred me on into a desperate search for a boy name that we both can agree on. 

It may not seem like a big deal to some. I know several couples who are weeks away from having their baby and still have no idea what they are going to name it. I just can't do that! I find that I get much more excited about the baby's arrival if I have a name that I am excited about. That is my hope this time. If I can find a boy name that we just love then I'll be a lot more excited about having another boy. 

Boys are all I know and I have been telling myself that it would be so much easier to have another boy. With all of that, I do have to admit that I finally came to terms with myself and was willing to admit that I really want to have a girl.  I was really hoping this would be our girl. I can't help trying to envision what our little girl would look like. When I go too far I stop and look at the amazing little boys I have and smile at the thought of having another warrior to add to this already male-dominated family.  

Remembering

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For some reason when I'm pregnant I get an overwhelming desire to read about pregnancy, birth stories and any other experience that women have gone through during and after this ordeal of growing and delivering a life.  You would think by my fourth it would be old news but it somehow seems new every time.
This time I collected all the books my library had about midwives (which wasn't much). Mostly their stories or memoirs. The one I most recently started reading is about a midwife delivering babies shortly after WWII in Britain.  It wasn't exactly what I was thinking when I requested it but hey, how bad could it be? One comment she makes early on is that it seems that once that baby is finally in the mother's arms  she forgets all the pain, hardship and suffering that she just underwent only minutes ago.  In the author's thinking she must, why else would she ever do it again?  I'm not sure how many times I have heard this theory but it drives me crazy. I haven't talked to many women but all I know is that even when I was pregnant with my first I had to make a bee line for the door in order to avoid hearing all the gruesome and excruciatingly painful accounts women could tell of their own labor experience. At the time I was naive enough to think that if I didn't listen somehow it would be a much less painful experience for me.
I have to admit that even at 17 weeks pregnant with my fourth I have moments of panic. What am I doing? Why am I doing this again?? Am I insane??
I remember vividly the birth (and pain that came with it) of my 2nd and 3rd babies (not my 1st but that's for another time).  In fact after Christopher I was so sobered by the overwhelming feeling that I couldn't possibly go through it again.  We have always wanted to have 6 kids but at that time I realized there's no way we could afford adoption and I just couldn't have another baby naturally. This was a devastating reality.  Of course things changed but not because I forgot the pain or it was somehow minimized by the tiny, somewhat bluish and unnatural looking baby in my arms right after delivery.  The thing that made me want to do this again was the joy that I have with my boys right now as they age and the long term perspective I keep having to maintain that reminds me of how wonderful it is going to be to watch them all grow and start their own families and impact the world in new and better ways (something we could have never done alone).
So I'm not sure about you but I don't forget. I have had to move on and put things in the perspective that looks past the few hours or more of excruciating pain to the life it will give us.

A Window to the World

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Our big picture window has provided hours of entertainment for my 3 boys. Especially because a lot of things that happen around here involve trucks, scoops, trash trucks, backhoes, ladders and everything else that boys get very excited about.  A few weeks ago our neighbors even entertained us with a small kitchen fire that called out a fire truck and several police cars (heaven for my youngest boy who sat and watched until that very last one pulled away).  Today the tree trimmers are providing most of the edge of your seat thrills.  From climbing to the tops of the trees to devouring every last branch in their branch eating machine.

I on the other hand can think of only one thing. Today is the day that my camera is going to arrive.  I am not the queen of saving money. Ever since I was little I couldn't stand to have money in my pocket that wasn't being used to buy something immediately, so it was close to a monumental event that finally made me realize that to get the camera I wanted I was going to have to save up, not just a few months but possibly a few years. So last year I started. Every Christmas, birthday or event where I could squeeze money out of people I did. Finally after this past birthday I had enough to get me so close that my husband was willing to make up the difference.  So the Nikon d3100 will soon be in my possession and hopefully my photos will show a remarkable difference in quality because of it.

Another thing to be celebrated is the fact that hopefully we are done with the puking around here! It started out last Monday morning when Peter took it upon himself to loose his breakfast. That night Warren joined in on the fun only he didn't just join half-way, he put his whole heart into it. He was bedridden for at least 3 days (throwing up for 24+ hours and then incredibly weak and helpless for at least 36 hours). Once he decided to join the land of the living again my youngest couldn't help but get in on the action and started throwing up the day before my birthday. My husband had to stay home with the boys while I attended the family birthday party in honor of me and my sister-in-law.  Christopher tried to get better sooner but it wasn't until yesterday that he jumped into normalcy. This is when I decided I couldn't be left out and joined them. Thankfully mine only lasted a day.  I am hoping to say it is all behind us, that is if Ben doesn't want to get in on the action as well.