A. It was our anniversary on the 16th;
B. We did yard work all day in anticipation of Vor's birthday;
C. We had an amazing steak dinner downtown during Devor Downtown that Vor had to roll me home from;
D. We went to a birthday party;
E. We agonized for hours at Babies R Us and then bought a crib;
F. We painted le bebe's room;
G. We bought bookshelves for the office, and took all of our books out of the previous bookshelves... alas, that task is not done yet and our "library" is on the floor; and
H. We went to our sonogram, and Hershey was not modest. At all. Hershey proudly displayed the fact that Hershey is a girl.
A baby girl! Vor and I were just sort of absorbing it at first. Stunned, like. Not because we were expecting one or the other, just because it was a bit more real. We were excited, but dazed.
But! Now! A few hours later! We are bantering names back and forth, we are imagining little baby girl cheeks, and we are picking biographies on interesting women to pick out of the library. We are full girl steam ahead. Hershey is no longer a variant of "he or she." Hershey is now "her/she."
I finally got to have my conversation with work about maternity leave, leading up to maternity, and how the return shall work. Basically, they love me, and want to keep me. Therefore, the princess receives what the princess wants.
If it's a slow day, and I have a well behaved kiddo (no chance, given Hershey has half my DNA) I could let the kid chill in the office with me.
Vor's birthday is the 27th, so this cake thing is happening. The ultrasound (I hope Hershey cooperates) is happening on the 22.
Bedrooms are being painted. Clothes are starting to appear. A MINIVAN has appeared in my garage, and it appears to show no signs of leaving. I am now the owner of a minivan. My mom is knitting the baby blanket.
There are plans, you see?
I will get to why this matter in a moment, but here it is: I have no torso. By no torso, I mean I am mostly leg. My wait is very high, my hips are way up there, etc.
I am fairly short. I suppose I am average height for a woman, but my family is comprised of the towering giant sort, and then I went married another towering giant (hello Freud), and then I went and participated in tall people sports (volleyball, synchronized swimming, crew), so I am pretty much always the shrimp of the group.
What I lack in height, I make up in leg. It's what allowed me to participate in, and even excel at, tall people sports. My mom is 6 foot, but my legs are the same length as hers.
Do you see the problem? Probably. It just dawned on me today when I was at the grocery store, I received my first "you're only HOW far along?" look. That is quickly followed by the "you'll never make it that long" look.
I have no torso. There is no place for this kid to go but out. I have gained very little weight at this point (thank you all day throwing up extravaganzas). I'm a cute size right now, but I am rapidly going to go past that into uncomfortable looking, and then straight into the size where people avoid you, just in case they might have to be a good Samaritan.
I just have no place in my body for this kid! So, onwards, and... outwards...?
Okay, fine, you can email me at graceandpressure [at] yahoo [dot] com. Don't all flood me with emails at once, you know. If you're emailing about craniosynostosis, put it in the subject, and I'll respond quicker. Deal? Deal.