23 Weeks Pregnant

I have kindof lost track of how many weeks along I am, because when I went in for my ultrasound they said I was measuring TWO WHOLE WEEKS bigger than I actually was. So... now I'm all... does that mean I actually am two weeks ahead of projected baby time? Or does that just mean this boy is mumbo?

Heck, I dunno. I just follow what the little baby elephant says in my sidebar. Because I trust that little elephant. He ain't done me no wrong.

I am feeling extra super great these past few weeks. I've got energy and a baby bump and I can still fit into some of my pants. (Uh... sortof.) I can eat whatever I want without having to consult a queasy stomach beforehand. And, this baby is rocking and rolling inside of me... kicking and pushing so hard against me that sometimes I am convinced that he could already whoop me in an arm wrestling match if he had the chance.

His little thumps make me jump and start and wince ... something I NEVER remember feeling with Ezra. Ezra's kicks were always so pleasant and demure. Like... "Pardon me mother, may I bump you a tad?"

This baby is like... "JUDO CHOP!!! oh. sorry. was that your liver?"

On a completely unrelated note- today was the first 'good hair day' I've had in MONTHS. Soooo, I took a picture. And wanted to thank you all again for helping me through the agonizing hell known as 'growing out my hair'. I think it's finally starting to pay off...

Heart in a Tree.

Pardon my absence this past week, but I've been up to my eyeballs in researching boy names. Again.

At this point in time? If there's a boy name out there, I've seen it. And I've probably written it on my list and then erased it a time or two. Or three. The good news in all of this is, we've discovered three names that we really like. The bad news is... well, now we have to pick one of those three.

My hairz iz turning gray.

Now, let me tell you a story about a boy and his rocket.

The story begins long ago, with a little boy named Chris. Little Chris was obsessed with model rockets. He was constantly saving up all his money to buy bigger, better rockets, and he would spend hours launching them with his friends after school.

Fast forward about 17 years. Now, Chris is a daddy. And he felt it high time to introduce his three-and-a-half year old son, Ezra, to the passion of his youth.



Mommy had reservations when she saw that the box suggested such rockets for children ages TWELVE AND UP. Yet, mommy held her tongue, because, well... sometimes mommies can be too uptight about things. And Chris is older than twelve. (He'll be 27 on Wednesday! Woot!)





Chris and Ezra built the rocket together with more joy and anticipation than all of the children who are currently within the gates of Disneyworld COMBINED. They were outrageously giddy. In fact, Mommy couldn't even tell which of them was having more fun. (Although she admits she was leaning towards the big, bearded, lanky one.)

After much setup, and practically re-creating a science lab right there in a big empty field near our house, the boys were ready to launch.







Mommy felt some trepidation and was quite certain that this little family moment would be headlining the evening news later that very night. She cowered many yards away and said the Lord's prayer while the boys counted down to Blast Off.

I should mention that in alllll of this large, empty field, there was but ONE lonesome tree. A tree that was far, far from where the launch was to take place. Chris was worried about this tree, while mommy simply said "Hah! It's much too far away to be a nuissence!" Little did she know....

5.....4......3.....2.....1.... LAUNCH!

Ezra pushed the button and activated the rocket, which sounded like a volcanic erruption... AMPLIFIED. This tiny little rocket flew straight into the sky and disappeared from my sight and circled the moon, whizzing grey smoke behind it as it entered the restricted federal air space above our heads.

IT. WENT. HIGH.

Then, a little yellow parachute popped out of the top of it, and it slowly started to re-enter the earth's atmosphere.

Down, down, down, it came. All of our eyes were intently following its descent. Our eyes followed it all the way down, as far as they could, until it finally disappeared... into the very top of the lonesome tree.

It was lost. And Ezra was inconsolable. He just couldn't understand. Promises of a new rocket only upset him more... fresh wails and tears would flow with every new bribe. A new train? WAAAAH!!! A better rocket? WWAAAAHHH!!!!!! And on and on and on.

What a sad trio we were.

Finally, he calmed down and we resumed our evening- talking to him about loss and how hard that lesson can be. (Even all these years later!) Ezra was a trooper. He told everyone we met that night about his wocket in the twee. Sympathies abounded.

Our story would have ended there, except for the fact that Chris just couldn't stand to see his son so heartbroken.

So, this afternoon, he snuck off while Ezra and I were napping, and he revisited that tree. He took a good look at its MASSIVE height, and then proceeded to climb it. {**insert wifely heart attack here**} He climbed all the way to the top, unhooked the rocket from the limb it was resting on, and brought it back home to surprise his son.

He's an awesome dad.

But... I'm really beginning to think that those model rocket boxes should be marked as age TWENTY EIGHT and up.

Handmade.

I wanted to take a few days to let the idea of another boy sink in before I wrote anything about it here. I wanted to have a few days of shifting gears from "the baby" or "it"... to "Him" and "He". I needed a few days to adjust my thinking.

I had been so set on a girl this whole time, I had gone there in my head and swooned over little dresses and hair bows and the thought of seeing my husband cradling a pink bundle in his strong arms...

So, I took some time to wrap my mind around this baby boy. It's still wrapping its way around.

My initial reaction, when I saw those three letters on the card, was sadness. It wasn't a crushing sadness by any means, but more of a "letting go of something I very much wanted" sadness... but it only lasted for about 4 minutes. Chris and I looked at each other and smiled and talked about what we were feeling. I mourned the loss of a PERFECT girl name (and also the complete lack of a favored boy name) and all those little dresses and the special mother-daughter bond. He lifted my spirits and talked of the strengthening bond of brotherhood that Ezra would get to experience and I thought about the equally special mother-son love I'd get to have again.

I felt pretty sad about it right up until the very moment I shared the news with someone. And, ironically enough, the first person to find out what we were having wasn't a family member or a friend, but the owner of the coffee shop we were sitting in.

She noticed I was pregnant, and so naturally, the very next question from her lips was "Do you know what you're having?"

I told her it was a boy and I showed her the little black & white pictures I was cradling, and almost instantly the sadness lifted and I could feel nothing but giddy excitement. Exactly like when you fall in love for the first time. Suddenly there were butterflies in my stomach and I had the desire to do a cartwheel right there in the coffee shop.

Sharing the news with family and friends only cemented this joy in my heart. Every time the word "Boy" left my mouth, I felt more and more sure that this was exactly what was meant to be.

The next morning I was wide awake before the sun even came up because I was just too excited to sleep.

Since then, it has been a typical adjustment of ups and downs. Mostly ups. But there have been a few moments when I feel the loss of something creep into my heart for a second or two.

This sadness, just like anything in this life, is softened by the knowledge that God knows EXACTLY what He is doing at all times, and that I generally have no stinking clue.

It is also softened by the overwhelming hope of the unknown future- the realization that I'm ALWAYS in good Hands, and that this amazing baby boy was chosen, crafted, and designed specifically for me and my family by those very same fingers.

Drum Roll Please....

The ultrasound went wonderfully!!

I felt a undeniable peace and a calm through the whole experience. We asked the technician to write the sex on a card that I had made before hand. We turned our heads from the huge plasma screen as she measured the wittle baby legs so we wouldn't see any tell-tale bits.

The tech was so sweet and she slipped the "gender obvious" ultrasound pics into the envelope along with the card with the big news on it.

Chris and I escaped to our favorite coffee shop, ordered our drinks, and got straight down to business.

We anxiously set the card onto the table, closed our eyes, opened it up, and....

20 Weeks Pregnant.

I'm about three hours away from finding out what this precious baby is. To say I am excited would be an understatement.

This feels like such a big deal, because... well, because it potentially is. If this baby is a boy, we may try to have another child in the future... and keep hoping for a girl. (Or we may eventually adopt.) If this baby is a girl, we may be done.

I say all of this very loosely, because we really have not come to any solidly concrete decisions on all of this, and God ALWAYS has the go-ahead to change our hearts and minds on things... To change our plans without warning or explanation. But this is just what were tenatively feeling for now. (And, oh! How my husband needs a little girl! Thinking about it turns me all to motherly goo!)

So, this feels huge.

Anywho, I am just so stinkin' excited. Finding out the gender last time was a big help in connecting and bonding with the life growing inside of me, and I know that this time around it will be the same. There's just something about whispering a name to an otherwise unknown child that feels so intimate and... weighty. Acknowledging the worth and existence of an unseen joy.

Hopefully this baby bean will cooperate today. If it doesn't, that's fine. But hopefully it will.

Stay tuuuuuned.

Miracle!

WOOO HOOO!!!!

Miracles- they be happening!

I met with my midwife this morning and was reminded of how much I really do love her. She's like a breath of fresh, midwife-y air. I explained to her the situation with the ultrasound, and how I was so very upset about it all, and she completely agreed. She said "Let me figure out what's going on here and call you at home later today... I'm not really comfortable waiting until your 23rd week for your ultrasound."

I could have leapt off of my paper covered table and kissed her on the mouth.

I checked with the diagnostic center before I left my appointment this morning just to see if they'd had any cancellations. They said they hadn't.

So, around 2:00 this afternoon, I get a call from the diagnostics center. They said they had just spoken with my midwife, and GUESS WHAT? Suddenly they have openings for tomorrow at 2:30 or 4:00 in the afternoon.

IMAGINE THAT.

So, of course I chose the 2:30 slot.

I GET TO GO IN TOMORROW!!! AT 2:30!!!

So, thank you thank you thank you for your good vibes and support. It just goes to show you that sometimes you just have to keep asking until you finally ask the right person. All it took was the right person.

So... stay tuned for tomorrow's big news.

Any guesses on what this baby is?!

(*I'm still feeling boy...*)

In the Dark.

Thank you all for your much needed encouragement and for letting me know I'm not crazy for feeling so bummed about the ultrasound.

I AM REEEAAALLLY BUMMED.

I can't go to any of those other ultrasound places because you are required to have already had an ultrasound with your physician before any of those places will even see you. Some liability issue I think. This is how they word it:

"A routine ultrasound examination must have already been performed to assess the gestational age of the fetus and to evaluate for fetal anomalies as well as the basic components of fetal anatomy recommended for screening."

I have yet to receive a SINGLE ultrasound with this pregnancy so far, and I think that's part of the reason I am feeling so frustrated and uneasy about everything. I have NO idea what's going on inside of me and I'm over 5 MONTHS into this. I know that ultrasounds are not necessary, that women were having perfectly healthy babies long before the technology came along, but I have just felt so "in the dark" for this entire pregnancy. I don't feel like I'm being taken care of well. My appointments keep getting bumped and rescheduled, and it makes a girl feel like they don't have time for her, you know? If they didn't have time for me, I'd rather they had told me that UP FRONT so that I could have found a facility that DID have the time.

Maybe this is all happening because I'm on the state's insurance. Maybe I'm considered the 'bottom of the food chain' because I couldn't pay for a birth out of pocket and the insurance options for self-employed people desiring to getting pregnant were nothing short of LAUGHABLE. (I pay YOU more than you'll pay out for ME? Thanks, but NO THANKS.) Maybe I'm not getting treated as well as others are.

I don't know what to do. I feel like the medical center doesn't even care or understand how hard this is. There's been no compassion or attempting to make things better.

My only hope is to call the place everyday to see if they've had any cancellations. They can't/won't refer me out to any other facility besides their own. They said they don't have a 'waiting list'... that I have to keep ASKING THEM over and over again if they have space for me sooner. That feels a whole lot like begging to me. But I'll do it. I'll beg their ears off. Because it's the only thing I CAN do at this point.

Blech. Blechity-Blech.

I need some ice cream.

Disappointment.

Oh, Lordy.

I need me an internets hug today.

First, let me say that I had an amazing, AMAZING time in Kansas City. I had NO idea how much I needed a few days to wander around in an incredible town all by myself. I walked, read, journaled, met some ridiculously cool bloggy friends who contacted me while I was in their neck of the woods, enjoyed the rain, caught a movie, ate great food, and became more acquainted with a city that I fall more in love with every time I visit. We stayed with a family whose love and hospitality makes me feel like a daughter. I regained some lost confidence in myself simply because I had to find my own way for a few days. I enjoyed the attention that a baby bump can attract in an Urban Outfitters:

"OMG!! You're, like, totally pregnant!! Cuuuuutee! Sarah- come look at this!!!"

haha.

I have had this entire morning free as well because my above-and-beyond gracious in-laws offered to keep Ezra one more night and then drop him off at school this morning for me. I get to go pick him up in two hours. I am so refreshed and relaxed from my time away.

But here's where the sadness comes in. I got a call yesterday from OU Medical saying they needed to reschedule my appointment. I didn't know whether it was my ultrasound appointment or my midwife appointment, so I called them back this morning to figure it all out.

Turns out, it's my ULTRASOUND appointment. And they have not just pushed it back a day or two, oh no, but almost THREE WEEKS from now. And there's absolutely NOTHING I can do about it.

Maybe it's the hormones. Maybe I'm being overly dramatic about it all.

But I can't stop crying.

Last Minute Vacation!

I've decided last minute to join my husband up in Kansas City for the next few days while he is recording another album with our friend Brad. So... that's where I am right now. Sitting in a Panera Bread in one of my all-time favorite cities. My in-laws offered to watch Ezra for us until Monday, so here I am! Weee!

The guys have some very long days ahead of them in the studio. 7AM until unknown hours of the night. Everyday. So, I am wandering around this town by my lonesome for the next four days or so. What am I going to do with all this free time? I have no clue. I've already spent an ungodly amount of time in the Urban Outfitters here, and I have only just arrived. I am so glad we don't have one of those stores in Oklahoma City. There's only so much coveting a girl can handle.

I'm looking for a cute new hat. You know... due to this dire situation. I think I've worn a hat everyday for the last two weeks.

So far, I've had a great time up here. I'm to the stage in this pregnancy where other! humans! can! tell! that I've got a baby in my tummy, and people have been so sweet and fun and generous with their comments and courtesy... I LOVE this part of being pregnant. It's like, suddenly, the walls come down and people are eager to talk with you and be friendly. All due to the magic bump.

One woman told me yesterday that she was sure I was having a girl, due to the way my belly is "all up front". (We'll find out on Wednesday if she was right or wrong! EEEEGG!) A woman in a store here just stopped me and told me I was beautiful. Ummm... pretty much made my day since I feel like a greasy grease monster under this hat today. (And everyday.) ONLY during pregnancy will other women stop you just to tell you that you look beautiful or cute. We should totally do that for each other more often. Pregnant or not. It makes a girl feel good.

I already miss my Ezzie Bean. I'm sure he's having a ball, but I have so many memories of the last time I was up here for a few days while Chris was recording... everything reminds me of the time I spent here with him- desperately trying to find ways to entertain him in a city that was totally foreign to me then. That was tough, but it was a very sweet time in the long run.

Anywho- I will update as much as possible. Heaven knows I've got plenty of time on my hands! Woot!

Baby Blip Needs a Name.

First- thank you for your suggestions on the multiple children toting. With Ezra, I had a New Native Sling and a Moby, and I loved them both. I still have them and plan to use them again- especially in the grocery store!!

Second- I'm having a name crisis.

Chris and I had pretty much decided on a certain name for this baby, even before we were pregnant, and were planning on using that name for a boy or a girl. We were so sure of it. But then, a few weeks ago, I started to research the name a bit and found out that it is one of the fastest growing names in popularity in the country.

Some people may say, "So what? You like then name- who cares how popular it is??" My answer: I DO. I care. And I know in the large, grand scheme of things, it really isn't that big of a deal, but I grew up with a unique name and I feel that it helped define me in some ways. I believe names are powerful. They have meaning and sway and significance on the life they define.

So, I've been on the hunt for possible substitutes ever since. I obsess. I always have my ears open. I think about it all the time.

(My mom told me recently she was the same way when it came to naming us, so I am chalking all of this up to GENETICS. heh.)

I was always told that my mom found my name while scanning the credits after the movie "On Golden Pond." I always felt a connection to this movie because of that, but I had never, ever actually seen it.



Well, last night I watched that movie and GUESS WHAT MOM? There was no 'Emery' in the making of that film. What movie were you watching?!?

Here's the other thing that is making this process difficult for us... When we chose Ezra's name, it was nothing short of EPIC. We felt that God had spoken the name directly into our ears and confirmed it by it being a family name without us even realizing it. There was no doubt in our minds about it. I had stressed for months before God spoke to us about the name Ezra, but as soon as I heard him say it, there wasn't any more doubt. We knew the search was over.

So.... now... this time around.... do we wait for that epic name reveal again? And if we don't have a similar experience this go 'round, will I be okay with that? Do I just pick one I like and go with it?

I'm confoosed.

Anywho. My brain has been hijacked. I know it will all turn out fine, but in the meantime? I'm going a wee bit CRAZY.