The crazy train just got crazier.

I don't even know how to build up to this slowly so here goes.

Remember my confession about peeing on sticks? Well, I peed on a stick again. And it was positive.

Actually, it was more like 5 sticks. And they were all positive. But to be extra sure I broke them apart. And held them up to the light. And looked at them for days. 5 days. And they never changed. So....it looks like we're having a(nother) baby!

To say we were surprised would be an understatement. I'm still nursing Trav. We've taken "precautions" every single time but one. I'm dead serious. In four months, we've thrown caution to the wind ONE time. ONE.

We're very excited about having another little one to love and snuggle. And though this wasn't exactly our plan it was (quite obviously) in Someone's plan. So, we're going to go with this and enjoy the crazy ride we're about to be on.

I'm more than just a little bit nervous about the logistics. Because:

1. Trav is only 5 months old. FIVE MONTHS!!
2. We are still paying off the previous C-section because my insurance won't cover me on maternity.
3. I have no idea how we're going to squeeze 4 kids into this house.
4. Did I mention we still don't have maternity insurance?

Let this be a cautionary tale for teenagers everywhere. Because, as it turns out, it only takes one lapse with birth control to get pregnant and it isn't some sort of cumulative process. Just. so. you. know.

On a very serious note, we could use some major heavy duty prayers offered up for this situation. I know one way or another this is going to work out just fine. Even if I end up birthing this baby in the bathtub at home. Which, when compared to another $12,000 C-section, is looking like a distinct possibility.

At least I'll have plenty of blogging material, right?

Things I wish someone had told me about breastfeeding...

1. It doesn't always get better after two weeks. Sometimes it takes just a little bit longer. In my mind I only had to make it to the 2 week mark and then everything would be fine. Then I thought it would be easy. Much like everything that goes along with pregnancy, childbirth, and children it didn't happen quite the way I had imagined. It's a very individual process and for me it took about 3 and 1/2 weeks before it got easier. But, I'm so glad I waited.

2. Your breasts are capable of literally spraying your newborn in the face when they are too full. Which can make you feel a bit like a fire hose. Yeah, enough said.

3. Once you get the hang of it, it is actually super nice not to have to worry about bringing bottles with you everywhere you go. I'm one of those moms who could have 1 kid or 15 kids and still never quite get the hang of toting all the required supplies everywhere I go. At least with breastfeeding I know I won't be leaving the essentials at home!

4. Your kids might feel the need to let everyone they meet at the grocery store, church, Target, etc. know that their mommy makes milk in her BOOOOBIEEEES!! And also to specify to unsuspecting waiters and waitresses that they do not drink boobie milk thankyouverymuch.

5. Your dad probably won't be able to look you in the eye while you are breast feeding even if you are completely covered by your Hooter Hider and sitting across the room from him. Sorry, Dad.

You'd think that with three kids I would have been able to successfully breastfeed more than once, but I haven't. Trav is the first of my kids I've actually been able to get this far with. And now that it is going better I think we'll be in it for the long haul.

What about you? Is there anything you wish you'd been told about breastfeeding to make the process easier either emotionally or physically?

What do I do with Snakes, Snails, & Puppy Dog Tails?

As you may have noticed, I have have two girls. Two very girly girls. And I have two sisters. And no younger boy cousins or nephews or godsons. I come from a family packed to the gills with estrogen.

Which means, as D-Day approaches I'm getting more and more nervous about having a boy. Don't get me wrong. I'm really looking forward to this little boy. And I can't wait to start a new baby adventure.

But, boy stuff? That I'm completely unprepared for.

From the simplest of tasks (diaper changes) to the more complicated issues (potty training), I'm just completely at a loss. I've changed all of 2 boy diapers in my twenty-**cough**-something years. I babysat for one boy child. Once. And, I didn't even do that for more than a couple hours.

Can you tell I'm freaking out?

Okay, so here's where the internets bail me out. Tell me, friends, what are your best boy tips and tricks? What do I need to know? What will the baby books fail to tell me?

Total Truth Tuesday -The Belly! Week 36

I was looking at myself in my bedroom mirror the other day and thought, "Hmmm...my belly isn't really all that big. In fact, it's not that big at all!"

A day later I caught a glimpse of myself in a store window and nearly fell over. Apparently, I have a magic mirror at home. Or there is something in the heating ducts causing me to hallucinate. 'Cause the belly? It be huge. HUGE.

Without further ado, I present: The Belly. (Cue scary music)



(BTW, notice how high this kid is sitting?? Is it too much to ask that he drop already? Sheesh!)

And we have a nursery...

I've blogged before about the fact that it was taken me WAY longer to finish this little one's nursery than either of my girls. Partially because things are crazy around here with a pre-schooler and a kindergartener and partially because the boy thing was really stumping me.

But, we finally picked a "theme" and are getting the nursery almost finished. It isn't quite complete and we've still got to add some artwork that Thomas is designing this week, but it has come a LONG way!

Keeping in mind it's still a work in progress, I wanted to share what "we" (read: Thomas) accomplished with painting. Check out the before and after pics:

Before - Kai and Ivy's bedroom

After - T's almost finished nursery!

So, that was my tackle this week. Go check out what other people are tackling for Tackle it Tuesday at 5 Minutes for Mom!

And the worst part is that it's not cute or cuddly...

Yesterday I tried to have a baby.

I woke up feeling just a bit off. By 10 am I was having cramping. By 1:00 I was having stabbing pains and contractions. But I waited. Because I didn't want to be one of those crazy preggo moms (a.k.a. me in both previous pregnancies) who went to the hospital for every little thing. Plus this one is on me, folks, so when I'm paying I want to make sure I'm paying for the baby and not false labor.

So I took a bath and waited. And they got worse. MUCH WORSE. And then they were 15 minutes a part. And then 10. At which point I went to the doctor. Because something was clearly up. From there they went to 7, 5, 3 and that is when they wheeled me into L&D. Because I was clearly having a baby.

The doctor told me they'd have the C-section that night because it was more dangerous to stop labor at this point than it was to continue. I, of course, called all my family. But, the doctor on call that night had different ideas. And she gave me two shots of terbutaline and stopped the contractions.

But the pain just wouldn't stop. And oh. my. Lord. did I want to punch the nurse when she asked if I thought it was a pinched nerve. A PINCHED NERVE??? No. It wasn't a pinched nerve.

Once the contractions stopped, though, it became very obvious what was causing the pain because it was (unfortunately) a very familiar pain when separated from the pain of contractions. Kidney stones. No, that just doesn't do it justice. It was FREAKING KIDNEY STONES!!!

Oh this cruel, cruel body of mine.

They sent me home with one measly percocet and instructions to stay hydrated. And within 5 minutes of getting home I passed the stupid thing.

Thomas dared me to take a pic and blog it, but the truth is I like you guys too much and I want you to actually come back here again in the near future and pictures of kidney stones probably wouldn't guarantee the future of our relationship, right? I didn't think so.

Let's get down and dirty.

Okay, so I know that I don't have to spill any dirty truths until tomorrow. But, I just have the need to get something off my chest. And, so, if you are a male and/or you know me IRL you may want to stop reading now. Really. Unless you want to know more about me than you probably should.

Here's what I want to know today. Ladies who are pregnant or who have ever in your life been pregnant could you do me a favor? Could you raise your hand if your pregnancy hormones ever made you have the libido of hormonal 18-year-old boy? Because everywhere I turn I see that stereotype in the media and I'm starting to feel like maybe I'm missing out on an important benefit of pregnancy.

Actually, to be more accurate, my poor husband seems to think he is missing out on a major benefit of pregnancy.

Though my theory is that finding a pregnant woman with this particular pregnant symptom is kind of like finding a unicorn please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

Valentine's Day, as a result, is a day of undue pressure on those of us preggo chicks who are not hormonally crazed in a good way. It's just not fair.

To make things worse, did you know that they make things like this? Talk about pressure!

So, can you guess how Valentine's Day went down at our house?

Here's a synopsis:

Scene: Valentine's Day night. Living room sofa, 11:00 pm.

My sweet husband, snuggling up to me on sofa: "Hey, baby. Happy Valentine's Day. Did you like your flowers?"

**kissy-kissy-kissy**

Me: "Speaking of babies, when are you going to paint the baby's room? And I'm starving. Could you grill me a steak? Also, is it like 150 degrees in our house or what? Crap my left butt cheek has fallen asleep again. Could you move over? Is our couch made out of cotton balls or something 'cause suddenly it is all lumpy and out of shape. It's probably the fact that I'm huge, huh? I'm ruining the sofa from sitting on it. Do you think I look huge? Don't lie. I can see it in your face. It's not really fair to judge me right now, okay? I am, after all, growing the son you've never had. Just get off my case already."

My sweet husband: "Huh? Um...your hair looked really pretty tonight at dinner. I love you."

Me: "Yeah, well I guess that is what happens when you get a chance to take more than a 30 second shower and actually wash your hair. I know I've let myself go, alright? It's just hard to take time to get ready during the week when I'm constantly getting the girls ready and taken care of. Can't you just pretend not to notice?"

My sweet husband: "Um...I think I'm gonna go to bed. I love you, though. Okay? I really do. I mean, if that's alright with you."

Me: "Fine. Lay the guilt trip on. I wish for just one moment you could feel how I feel so you would understand why I'm not all lovey-dovey at the drop of a hat. I know what married couples are supposed to be doing on Valentine's Day and I'm sorry. But, you know, I'm not some Stepford Robot Wife so just cut me a little bit of slack."

At which point my sweet husband slinks away to the safety of another room.

End Scene.

--

Yeah, I'm a heartless wench. Really. And feeling hideously guilty for not being a better wife lately. And also I'm kinda not into, well, you know, marital congress at the moment what with all the pressure of a 6 lb. baby simultaneously sitting low in my belly and kicking me in the ribs. Thank God my husband has the patience of Job.

Promise me this isn't scientifically possible.

Last night I had a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare that nearly woke me up screaming in a fit that would threaten to wake up even our neighbors two houses down.

I dreamed I was pregnant.

Wait, I am pregnant.

I mean, I dreamed I was pregnant and apparently miraculously still ovulating and that I managed to get myself pregnant - again. I remember vividly in my dream waddling my hugely pregnant body into the bathroom to take a home pregnancy test. I remember waiting for the results and seeing a horrifying pink plus sign.

In my dream, even though I was currently 7 months pregnant, I discovered that lurking inside me was a new baby. A baby that would take another 9 months to mature. Which, of course, meant that delivering this baby would not free me from my prison of gestational "bliss." Can you imagine the cruelty of that discovery?

And, for the love of all that is sweet and holy, if you can't have, um, marital relations without fear of getting pregnant when you're, you know, ALREADY PREGNANT then when can you?

I'm pretty sure this is due largely to our recent discussions of whether or not we'll be adding a fourth to the mix at some point.

I know, I know. Talk about putting the cart before the horse. I'm always one who is rushing too far ahead for my own good. But, the idea of a fourth is pretty much all my influence. Four just feels right to me.

If we do decide to take the plunge, Thomas' thought is to "rip the band-aid off" and try for a fourth about two or three months after this baby is born.

Clearly, he hates me.

You should have seen the look on my parents' face when we joked about that. They did not see much humor in the thought. And, I can assure you, that will not be happening. Though I know it works out wonderfully for some people. Heck, Thomas' older brothers are 10 months apart. 10 months, people!

If we do decide a fourth is on the horizon you can count on it being a good year or so before we even think about it. I like the idea of a fourth coming along right around the time this little guy is two. It is an age difference that has worked out so nicely with Kai and Ivy.

Still, for now, I'll be rejoicing that come March this little guy will be out of the baby cooker and I'll have at least a year or more to enjoy being the only person living in this body.

For now, let's just hope I start dreaming of something less frightening. You know, like El Chubacabra or the Anti-Christ.

Sometime the best answers are the ones you make up...

The other day Kai asked me an interesting question. She wanted to know where she was before she was in my tummy. Was she, she asked, with God in heaven? Or, was she hanging out with angels? Did God know her then? Where did she come from before she "hatched" out of the egg in mommy's tummy? (Okay, so she doesn't get the whole reproductive process, people. But, she's four. What am I supposed to tell her?)

I thought - hatching aspects aside - it was a really smart question. And, yet, another Kai question that I had to leave largely unanswered. I'm sure theologians have this all figured out. And, I'm sure it is a lot less romantic an idea than the one I've always carried in my head.

I guess I've always believed that babies are with God before they're here. That may make me seem silly or hokey or simple minded, but I'm okay with that. And don't even bother emailing me about how that is directly contradicted by specific Bible verses or the implied nature of God. I'm a mommy. I'm just telling you what I've always imagined to myself.

And that got me thinking. Because, our family has an important anniversary coming up. Last year, on Christmas Eve, we lost Thomas' mom following very unexpected complications from heart surgery. And, now, less than a year later we're expecting a baby that I know Natalie would be thrilled about and I can't help but wonder what she would think and say and do each time we reach a pregnancy milestone.

Just the other day I was telling Thomas how happy I think his mom would be to hear that we're adding a little boy to our family when an unexpected idea occurred to me. Perhaps, she knows all about this boy. And maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to spend a little time with him before he came to grow inside me.

And though that is quite possibly the result of someone who has read too many fairy tales and not enough of the Bible, it is enough to make me smile each time my heart breaks at the thought of all she is missing out on here with this baby. Perhaps she's gotten the greatest glimpse of all into exactly who this little boy is. And, I know she'd cherish the opportunity to be ahead of the rest of us...

Guess what?

WE"RE HAVING A BOY!

Because I am terribly impatient I called today to book my gender determination ultrasound and they told me not only was I far enough along to come in at this stage of development, but they also had an appointment open tonight. And, you're crazy if you think I'm not the type of person to JUMP at the chance!

And, you could have knocked me over with a feather when the woman told me we were having a boy! I was certain it was another girl. It just felt like a girl. But, there was no mistaking the boy parts and so a boy it is. The first in my family.

Now, if only we could come up with a name that won't get him pummeled on the playground!


And, I know these pictures look a little bit like some kind of bad mashed potato sculpture, but I thought I'd share on the off chance that I'm not the only person who can make out our little man's face.

It's a...shrimp?

Yesterday we had our big ultrasound visit. I have to say I was about as nervous as I have ever been going in to a visit like that. It took the tech a little while to actually find the baby, but once she did it was obvious that our little one was doing great.

The baby has definitely grown appropriately since last week and he/she looks exactly like it should. They said the heartbeat is strong and everything looks perfect so we are really thrilled. We're just a couple weeks behind where we thought we were which is distressing only because it means my pants are getting tight even earlier than I had previously thought!

I got a picture to keep and Kai insisted that it could not be what the baby actually looks like. I'll admit those early pictures do look like a cross between a tadpole and a gummy bear, but we'll just have to keep reassuring her that he/she won't look like that forever!

Thanks again for all your thoughts, prayers, and good wishes!

I'm putting the finishing touches on my pregnancy blog so this blog doesn't necessarily become baby central for those who'd rather keep hearing about how my kids shave their eyebrows and paint each other with permanent markers. You know, I'd hate to interrupt my documentation of my children's quest to ruin any hope for cool family pictures...

For all Maternity...

I must admit that upon discovering I was pregnant with Arema Kai I went straight out to Mimi Maternity and spent WAY too much on maternity wear. I loaded up on t-shirts, tanks, jeans, dresses, suits, bras, maternity panties (which, can I just say, I have an unhealthy obsession with). I tried on the belly and longed for the day my belly would match that adorable stuffing filled baby pouch.

I could probably have purchased an Italian crib for what I spent that day in maternity clothes. And, of course, I went right home and started wearing them. At 6 weeks pregnant. It mattered not that I could barely hold them up. Or that I looked absolutely ridiculous. I was pregnant, doggone it, and I would dress the part.

With Ivy, I knew better. In fact, I wore regular non-maternity jeans up until the day she was born. I adapted my regular wardrobe to fit my growing belly and supplemented with just a few maternity pieces that I bought sparingly. I loved my belly and had fun dressing it. Pregnancy #2 I hit my stride.

Which brings us to baby #3. Sweet mercy, how I wanted to avoid wearing maternity clothes early on in this pregnancy. But, bloggy friends, this baby has other plans for my body. I am 8 weeks pregnant and already safety-pinning my jeans. I am stubbornly holding onto these pants. I'm wearing yoga pants and flowing tops and refusing to transition too quickly into the dreaded maternity wear.

In an effort to put it off I did make myself a couple DIY Bella Bands to help my pants stay up. Basically, I just cut a couple of slightly too small stretchy tank tops off at the chest and ta-da! A homemade Bella Band in any color I want thus allowing me to avoid maternity pants and shirts for a while longer.

But, it will happen. Oh, it is inevitable and I know that. But, I will not go into that dark night of maternity wear without a fight. No, I will rage, rage against the dying of the...ah, to heck with it. I think I'm gonna go to Target and buy some stinkin' maternity clothes already.