So I've pretty much slept, ate, and laid around catatonic for the past 1.5 months I've been absent from the internet. After getting through a day of work jumping back on the computer to think of something reasonably witty or interesting seemed like an epic task. I read somewhere that being pregnant is like climbing a mountain everyday. To this my dear husband and dear sister (who has moved into our small outbuilding "shanty" next to our tiny home) snorted. I think milk even came out their respective noses. But dammit that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
All the I read about the 2nd trimester (which I'm rapidly approaching the end of) says that I should be feeling vividly energetic, like before I ever got pregnant. To that I say "bah" and then take another snooze. That being said, I love having this small growing life in me more than anything else that has ever, ever, ever happened to me.
I also have learned that I make a steadfast "rule" about pregnancy and then break it almost as fast. Like how I was NOT. GOING. TO. LEARN. THE. SEX. We were going to do it old school and thumb our noses at this new-fangled technology that my great-great grandmothers didn't need. Nick was perplexed at my decision. It seemed to not take into account that fact that he really, really wanted to know the sex and thought it was a positive way to bond with the little creature who shares half his genetic heritage.
This took me aback. I have to share pregnancy decisions? This isn't all about me? Suddenly it was like I was back planning our wedding and just heard Nick hated the funky chicken song. Everyone hates the funky chicken song but I wanted it because it would be ironic. We didn't have the funky chicken song. And we found out the sex because I love my husband and anything that will help him get closer to the wiggly friend I get to know feel on a daily basis is probably the best choice.
So it's a boy! This is him. About 4 weeks ago. The shock was how similar my new favorite guys looked: