It's a Boy!!

I am about five days post finding out we are going to have another little dude running around.
And I am still excited.  Happy.  Over the moon (to be totally cliche).
This little baby was as cute and cooperative as could be for the ultrasound and we got to see him doing some adorable things.  Like play with his feet.  He hasn't quite mastered the ability to grab his toes and hold on to them, but he was sure trying.  He also got mad at the ultra sound pressure squishing him and kicked up at it.  He put his little hands up to his face.  Wiggled around plenty.
I am always amazed at ultrasounds and what you can see with them.   We got to see his heart.  Four chambers of awesome design pumping away.  Just a few months ago all we could see of his heart was a tiny flutter in the corner of the screen.
The tech said he looked perfect.  I know they aren't allowed to really do that, but she was running an hour behind and I think felt a little bad for making us wait (with a squirming Emerson in tow) so gave us an unofficial report.
We won't get to see him again until about 30 weeks and then maybe again at 36 just to see how he is growing.  My guess--he's going to be as perfect and "big" as his brothers.
And of course his biggest brothers are super excited to have another boy coming.  They are awesome with Emerson and will be just as awesome with the new baby.  Emerson, sweet boy, has no clue how his little life is going to change.  I am thankful he will have a sibling close in age, but I know the first year(s) are going to be a challenge.  He hasn't really ever seen other babies until last night.  We had friends over with their teeny tiny newborn and Em was perplexed for about five minutes then moved on.
We have a name, but aren't sharing it.  I want to reserve my right to change it (I have been irrationally fickle this pregnancy) without having to hear the "but I thought his name was..." commentary.
And I am not putting any specific due dates out there (unless you have an awesome memory when I initially got the due date and mentioned it).  Babies come on their own time and the due date is (in my opinion) arbitrary.  Late winter/early Spring is as specific as I will get.  

4

Wake up, hold my breath, and feel out that missing piece.
It's that day, again.  That time of year where memories are not always shiny and lovely.  That day where life changed.  Or was it the weeks or the months leading to it?  The weeks after?  The years after?
Is it familiar yet?
That missing piece.
Does it hurt to find it again?
It's not like it used to be, where the thought of missing, gone, passed on were consuming and terrible.
No more crying and sadness waking up in the middle of the night or with a phone in hand with no way to call.
It still is sore and sad.  A deep sad that goes to the heart and right on through.  But now, there is joy, too.
Joy.
To have known and talked and shared and listened and loved.
To have been loved and cared for.
Joy to have had time at the kitchen table.  On the deck.  Christmases and Thanksgivings and 4th of July's. For the recipes and secret that love really is that special ingredient.
Joy for the honesty that life isn't all perfection and simple answers.  That you can and should handle yourself with class and dignity, right to the very end.  That a person can be flawed, imperfect, human, yet still be beautiful and have that beauty shine through their actions.

My Gram was an amazing woman.
There will always be a piece of me that misses and mourns her.  But growing around it, finding root where there was just sadness, is such joy and thankfulness.  I knew her.  Got to share and spend time.  She made my life better.  Made me better.  Showed me how to keep doing better.  Glad for all that.

ugh

The stomach flu hit our house hard this week.

I thought (silly me) that the mild symptoms of a tummy ache and low grade fever that the boys had on Monday were going to be all we got.

Nope.

We got the full experience.  Plus a visit for me to the ER to get IV fluids to keep baby safe/make sure I didn't turn into a raisin.  Thank goodness for a sweet friend from church.  Andy was sick so couldn't take me and driving myself was probably not a terribly brilliant idea. 

 But even though the guys did not have ER confirmation of how sucky this bug was, their experience was not anywhere near awesome. 

I will say, with a hugely thankful heart, that we are generally a healthy bunch.  We don't have chronic illness or allergies or anything that even remotely comes close to what other families deal with.  But...

We are not good patients.  

The boys get restless and bored.  I get grouchy and mean.  It's been ugly and I am so looking forward when we are all back to our normal selves.

Praying today is the last day we have it hanging around.

Ability vs Desire

There is a blog out there I found via a Pinterest peruse called something like "Reasons My Child is Crying." If you have time: http://www.reasonsmysoniscrying.com/ 
Funny stuff.
And, at the moment, completely and totally relate able to life with Emerson J.

He has hit that awesome stage of budding independence and wants to do all the things!
He is walking.  Talking more (though not terribly intelligibly).  Trying out toys in different ways.  Looking at books. Stacking blocks.  All the things his little toddler self can get into he gets into.
But he still hasn't quite learned how to do all the things he wants to do.
Like put on his shoes.  Or take off his shirt (he has, magically, mastered taking off his diaper--joy). He can't quite use a fork or spoon.  He can't climb the stairs or work the baby gate.  He can't unbuckle his car seat or stroller harness.
So with each "failure" to do what he wants to do, poor Emerson melts down.  Tears.  Flailing.  Wailing and screaming.  Maybe even throwing a shoe that won't go on his foot or block that won't stay stacked.
And forget stepping in to help.  No way.  That just makes it worse.
So, this mommy can do nothing but sit down beside him.  Narrate his frustration.  And hope that the budding language development will help in expressing his extreme displeasure at not being able to do all that he desires.
And, after a day of melt downs (too many to count usually), I unwind with some web-surfing and feel a little better that there are other parents out there going through the same thing.  

Sick Day

I am not going to say I enjoy having the big boys home sick.  I hate that they are missing a day of school (especially Matt who has a very fast paced classroom).  I hate so much that they weren't feeling awesome this morning that I would have gladly been sick instead.
When Nic woke up crying about his belly hurting and Matt said he felt hot, I immediately assumed worst case scenario: they had somehow gotten the 24 hour puke bug that is going around.  I gathered the Tylenol, water bottles, and puke buckets.  I had them change into cozy but junky clothes and had the beach towels ready just in case.  But, strangely, it's been fine.
Matt's fever went away with the Tylenol.  Nic's belly is better.  No puking.  I am not calling the sick day "over" yet, but as I write the boys are happily playing a LEGO/Skylander hybrid war something on the dining room table.  And asking for snacks.
While I am not cheering that they missed school and didn't start the day feeling great, I am taking a minute to appreciate the good things about the day (other than the obvious no puking).  I've gotten to cuddle up with them.  Watch movies.  Read books.  Sit and look at their little faces all day with zero guilt that house hold jobs are not being done.

Dreaming of pink? Or blue?

So we find out soonish  if Baby 4 is a boy or girl.  Assuming he/she cooperates at the ultrasound.
With the other three, I knew before the ultrasound tech had a chance to tell us what they were.  My boys were not shy.  I am hoping this baby let's us have a peek.
Andy and I have decided on names.  But I think we may try and keep those under wraps until baby is born.  I am sure with the names we have chosen there will be some commentary.  I am normally not opposed to people expressing opinions on baby names because it didn't take a while to find names we like.  These names took a lot of discussion, so I am not risking any ridiculous comments.
I have had two dreams about this baby.  Both dreams had this baby being a girl.
The first dream was when I was just at the end of my first trimester.  In the dream I was having a lovely lunch with my Gram and she told me this baby was a girl and not to worry, that things were going to go just fine through the pregnancy, and she couldn't wait to see her because she was surely going to be as beautiful a baby as Emerson.  This was a hard dream to have, as my Gram passed away several years ago, before Emerson was born.  I miss her terribly.  But I am lucky in that she and I will have "lunch" every so often, usually at a time of high stress or worry. We talk, catch up, and I wake up with bittersweet tears.  After this dream I sobbed on and off for days.  I chalk some of that up to hormones.  I told Andy and my mom and sister.  And joked a little that wouldn't it be funny if baby was a girl.
Last night I had my second "Baby 4 is a girl dream."  I was just folding laundry, still sporting a giant belly, and the basket was full of pink and purple and obviously girly baby things.  I pulled out a beautiful blue and white sleeper (reminded me of a delicate china pattern) with birds and lacy ruffles on it.  Very girly.
So, I am either secretly hoping or worrying Baby 4 is a girl.
I can't decide which.
It's funny because when people find out we have three boys I get a "hoping for a girl this time?"  Or sometimes a "so if this is a boy will you try again for a girl?"
But, no, I don't think we were hoping for one sex or the other--just healthy.  And, no, four is the limit for this family.  Really.
I can't see myself being disappointed if Baby 4 is a boy.  I can't see being disappointed if it is a girl.  And I think it is kind of mean?rude?weird? for someone to think that we would be so disappointed that none of our awesome kids were girls that we just HAD to get pregnant again to try for a girl.  Or that we'd be so sad if this baby is a boy that we'd immediately start planning on when to get pregnant again to try for a girl.
We have our kiddos because we like our family, love our kiddos, and feel like we have room in our hearts for them.
I am counting down the days until we get to peek at Baby 4 again.  Excited to see what we can (little profile?  a nose?  tiny feet?) and hopefully find out boy or girl so I can plan out the nursery and tell our sweet boys what fun a new brother/sister will be.
I will be a little freaked out (in a pleasant way) if my dreams were right, though. 

4th Baby (lack of) Phenomenon?

I am going to preface this by saying I am in no way implying with this post that BB4 is anything but wanted, loved, and planned for.  That said...

This pregnancy is weird.
There have been several times I have forgotten I am pregnant.  Really.  And I feel bad about forgetting.
I am currently just hanging out between the "I want to vomit 24/7 and/or hibernate" stage and the "OMGoodness this child moves and wiggles non-stop/I look like a giant blimp" stage.
I call this stage the "I look like I could either be pregnant or have had a big lunch" stage.   Or the "my clothes fit funny and I cry about it" stage.  Perhaps I could also call it the "I want to eat weird stuff sometimes but mostly I feel normal (as in not preggo)" stage.
No matter what I call it, at this particular point, I am feeling kind of disconnected from the whole idea of being pregnant.
Maybe because I am chasing a toddler and running around with two school age kids?  Or because we don't know boy or girl yet?  Or because I don't have the time to lay on the couch, head phones on the belly, playing a variety or music for little bebe to wiggle to?
Life, right now, can't revolve around the belly as much as it did when I was pregnant with Matt.  Or Nic. Even with Em.
It makes me wonder, is this a 4th baby thing?  Are my mind/body so accustomed to being pregnant that it is no longer a hugely consuming thing?
It isn't that I am not excited or not ever thinking about bebe.  I am pretty sure Andy is on the verge of major frustration over picking out names.  And I have so many ideas on how I want the nursery once we find out boy or girl (no unisex themes for this kiddo).  And I am excited to go through Em's clothes and either sort them all organized for new baby's use or send them on to a friend to use for her sweet one.  A friend from church just had the bittiest little cute sweet baby and I got all giddy trying to imagine what my little one is going to look like.  So the excitement is there.  And the love.  So much love for this little one.
Just not the constant preoccupation.
Yet?