The Myth of 9 Months

Since you are a kid, you hear about how pregnancy lasts nine months.  Until you actually get pregnant --and it turns out to be a 40-week affair.  Now, it's been a while since I've taken math, but I do know this translates into 10 months.  I'm just saying.

Of course, there is the whole business of when doctors start counting what week you are on, etc., but the bottom line is that even though today I am at 25 weeks, I am not in my third trimester.  Apparently that happens at week 28.

I have started to read a little bit more about giving birth and breast feeding and all of the other responsibilities I will have to take care of, while simultaneously trying not to freak myself out.

KLC, meanwhile, has been busy doing very productive and practical things like preparing the house.  I had the idea that since the baby was coming in early September (supposedly), we'd leave the office/nursery more or less as is until some time in August.

Fortunately, someone in this relationship has already gone through this and has started to prepare.  We now have a changing table, rocker, cloth diaper stuff (again, I need to learn how to use it), clothes and more in what has become more nursery than office.   I can still work in the office/nursery, but as each day goes by, it edges slightly more towards a nursery/office.

So overall, I'm feeling pretty good, able to work out regularly, etc.  I've heard rumors that things get much harder very soon, but since I am still in my second trimester according to the experts, I'll assume that doesn't apply to me for at least a little while longer.

Back on the Blog Wagon

It's been quite a while since I last posted anything to the blog.  It's not for lack of things to say.  Instead, my blog inaction is more due to too much going on.  So I'll blame not enough time and, to some extent, having no clue where to start.

Well, enough is enough, and I'm back on the blog wagon.  First things first.  Most of you who read this will already know this, but for the stray reader, here's the news: I'm about 5 ½ months pregnant. 

There are lots of juicy scenarios that we could concoct to make this whole two-women-make-a-baby thing possible, but the real story is a little more routine.  KLC and I decided to take the remaining vials of sperm from the twins' conception and see what my 38-year-old reproductive system would do.  And, after on the second try, everything worked! After a series of ultrasounds and blood work (all of which came back normal), we are now excitedly expecting a baby boy in early September. 

If I sound calm and rational about this, it's just because the printed word doesn't convey my varying levels of neuroses.  For example, now that I have this baby inside me, how the hell does it come out?  (OK, I know on a certain level, but it's the fine points that I haven't fully worked out yet.)

The good news is that I have a partner in KLC who has done this before with two no less, not to mention the advice and counsel of many of my friends and family (as well as the resources of billions of women on the planet who have managed to successfully give birth over the years.)  Again, the devil is this whole delivery thing may be in the details.

The twins are excited about their new sibling, but even more so that it's a boy.  One twin said that now that he knows the baby is an acceptable his gender (his) that he let the baby in the room.  (Not quite sure what steps he would have taken to prevent a baby sister from entering his private sanctuary, but I'm glad we don't have to go down that path.)  The other twin has been asking for a baby in the house for years, so I think she is just happy to be getting the chance to constantly pick someone up who is much smaller than her be a big sister.

Since I know that some of them read this blog, I want to take a moment and thank everyone who came to my shower this past weekend in Massachusetts.  It amazes me that, even though I live far away, as soon as I get together with my friends there's an immediate sense of comfort and honesty.  There's nothing that can replace people who have known you for decades at this point (yes, it's true, we are that old). I wish that I could package you guys up and take you with me to the Pacific Northwest.  Barring that, I'm just grateful that I get to see everyone from time to time.  I am really thankful that I have the friends and family that I do. 

And, I'm not just saying this because I will be calling/emailing you in a panic about having a newborn and anything else life throws at me.  But I will be doing exactly that.