Call me Myrtle.
Well, dear readers, it has happened again.
I’m not too terribly surprised, to be honest. The hubs and I were doing a pretty poor job of preventing it from happening. So it’s no surprise that, after feeling a little off-pace for a few days, I took a test and saw a big, bold, blue positive glaring back at me. My initial reaction was “oops.”
You see, friends, Stephan and I have been blessed with three children. Because we had reached what seems to be the socially acceptable number of offspring to have in an American household, we had kinda figured that we were done producing kids. In my mind, I was preparing myself for what I thought was the next step in our family’s five-year plan: becoming a foster family. Stephan, meanwhile, was preparing to buy a pontoon. Per usual, God looked at our plans and laughed.
After the initial surprise wore off, it was very quickly replaced with a smile I couldn’t shake. I was immediately excited about the new baby that had just made it’s presence known. I rubbed my flat(ish) belly and said, “Well, hey there, little one! I’m really excited to meet you! I promise to take good care of you, while you’re in my tummy and when you come out!”
Then I called Stephan.
“Hey, Stephan, you busy?”
“No, what’s up?”
“So, you know that boat you wanted to buy?”
“Weeeeeell, you might want to hold off for now.”
(I’ve never been one for the pintrest-worthy reveals. This has pretty much been the pattern for all four times I’ve told Stephan he’s going to be a daddy.)
Much to my relief, Stephan was not upset about not getting to buy a boat us having another baby. Even though a few issues did quickly cross our minds. For one, where are we gonna fit the baby? God has blessed us with a beautiful, wonderful house in a great neighborhood, and it fits us perfectly. We have our master bedroom, the boys share a room, and Belle gets her own much better decorated room. We figured at first that, if the baby’s another girl, she’ll end up sharing a room with big sister Belle.
But then, we remembered that, like Samson of old, Stephan has God-given, super-human abilities. He’ll just add a new room to the house and move somebody there. Until that time, just as we have done with the other three, we’ll keep our new baby in our bedroom with us. You know, for peace of mind and easier middle-of-the-night feedings.
Any other issues we could think of were minor and non-consequential. The biggest thing that Stephan was most concerned about was how we were going to tell everyone. As I have previously stated, I am not good with planning and executing adorable, memorable reveals. The last few times we’ve been pregnant, we’ve never had the patience or willpower to keep it in and ended up blabbing the good news to anyone nearby. So for this, our last pregnancy for sure this time, Stephan wanted to do something truly unique and special. It just so happened that Stephan had spent an admirable amount of money earlier this year on a ticket to go see his Cowboys play the Patriots in Dallas this October. With that in mind, he swore me to secrecy and laid out his plan. With a bright enough poster board and a little bit of luck and timing, Stephan hoped to let the world know of his forthcoming fourth-coming child on that massive screen above the center field at AT&T Stadium.
Well, that plan didn’t work. Also, I’m due in June, not July. Sadly, Stephan never got any screen time, so he ended up sending me the above picture and giving me the go ahead to tell people. I got to tell my parents in person, as I was there while Stephan was at the game. (They were ecstatic). The rest of my friends and family found out soon after when Stephan posted that picture on Facebook. Good ol’ Facebook; the ruin-er of surprises. The good news is that the Cowboys lost, so we don’t have to worry about naming our kid “Weeden.” (WHEW!)
Once the word got out, we received kind, congratulatory sentiments across the board. I honestly did worry a bit about people’s reaction to our fourth pregnancy; having heard tales of other parents receiving judgey, critical, even harsh responses to their consecutive pregnancy announcements, but we have gotten no such response, and are happy for it. Instead, we are preparing our hearts, our home, and our family for the addition of another.
Unlike my pregnancy with the boys, but very similar to my pregnancy with Belle, I have been nauseous. A lot. It could be worse, of this I’m sure, so I’m grateful for the level of nauseated I’m feeling. Besides the upset tummy, I’ve endured several other classic symptoms of growing another person. Fatigue has been my favorite so far. Thanks to fatigue, I’ve been in bed and asleep by 9:00 most nights these past three weeks. (I like sleep).
The kids are excited about having another baby in the house. Even little Belle will poke me in my squishy belly and say “baby!” (It’s only precious or adorable when she does it.) Noah and Witten are coming up with names to add to our list of possibilities daily. So far, their favorites are Marco, Chip, or Ivan for a boy, and Joy, Georgia, or Emma for a girl. (I think they’re taking the girl names far more seriously). The boys love to see images of what the baby looks like right now via my pregnancy app, and they are eager to share the good news with anyone who cares to hear it. All in all, there is a spirit of excitement and anticipation in our house. Also, every time I see a newborn, my chest constricts a bit and I squeal, either mentally or out loud, because I get to have one of those again!