three babies

Sometimes it feels like I have three distinctly different babies.

The first is the one I think about, imagine. This is a hypothetical baby, a concept. She's the one I've bought dresses for in big sizes because they've all been clearanced for the summer. When I've bought baby items in general, they've been for hypothetical baby (or for future gifts - I'm a sucker for a bargain!) When looking at cribs, I was thinking of the safety of hypothetical baby. Which stroller would be the most comfortable to ride in? I'm not sure that I could truly imagine our baby using these items. I think many of us have some form of hypothetical baby. Until we have an actual baby, we can really only imagine what our own baby will be like. Will it be a boy or girl? What's it's birthday? Will it look like us? Will it be easy? Cranky? Will it like me?

The second baby is the alien I feel in my uterus. I can call this baby my parasite and it doesn't feel mean. This is the being that grinds into my bladder, stretches big and tall and really enjoys pushing the limits of her environment. I see my stomach moving around, but I can't actually see a baby. It's really cool, but completely freaky. It's this baby that is the reason I can't bend. It's this baby that my mind connects to the constant reflux, and it's this baby when I vomit water in my mouth (love her? of course, but I don't picture her in a pretty outfit or playing with a toy. I picture my intestines and colon being compressed into the lung region!) This is probably the baby that is most real, only because it is difficult for my mind to disconnect from something kicking me. Even if it is coming from the inside.

The third baby is elusive. She is the actual baby that we will bring home. She is what we made from us. This is the baby who will receive a name we've (somewhat painfully) selected for her and who will live in the room that we're hard at work on. She's the one who needs diapers and is who everyone is so anxious to meet. She's the one her grandmas will not give up once they get their paws on her. She's going to be our daughter. She's not always going to be a baby - she will be a little girl and an adolescent and an adult and an old lady. As much as I can feel a baby moving and shifting and turning inside of me, this is the baby who will be the real one.

There are times when my babies collide.

Hypothetical baby in the crib becomes my actual baby as I feel the alien kick me and my dinner comes back to greet me and I think of the recent study showing a link between heartburn and hair.

Alien baby comes to life during ultrasounds and I can see her legs kicking me as I feel them kicking me, and I know she's not indigestion or a cat or something, and the doctor refers to the actual birth of this actual baby and even though I am able to speak clearly to him, my mind is a little fuzzy with the idea that it's all somehow related.

Even as my due date gets closer and things become more real and I'm more and more convinced that I'll be bringing home an actual, live baby, there's still some of that disconnect between what I feel in my body and what I know in my mind and what I feel with my heart.

I wonder if, on her birth day, this baby will become one whole as I am finally able to put the pieces together.

How freaking cute is this?

I am in love with the ears!

Of note

Item#1 - Thanks for the well-wishes. Being sick blows and I think I'm finally starting to kick this bug. That business about having a weaker immune system when pregnant rings true here. This head cold really kicked my ass! Stay healthy.

Item#2 - Mood swings/hormonal shifts fully in gear. Had a minor freak-out over a stroller this morning. I may or may not share the lunacy with you all at a later time. P thinks I've gone crazy, and I can't really disagree with him.

Item #3 - As I went to bed last night, I was thinking about the baby. I found myself wondering what it will sound like when she laughs. Just imagining it... indescribable.

sick

i had a slight sore throat that has turned into a miserable cold. i've spent the better part of the last four days on the couch. i was sick at the beginning of this pregnancy and didn't want to take anything and was able to make it through without. all this time, nothing byt tylenol for the occasional headache. yesterday i had to take a benadryl so i could rest and i felt really guilty. i took another when i went to bed and worried about the baby. i know it's ok because i've already gotten the ok on benadryl, but i still hated to take anything. odd for a person who is generally quite happy to take anything that will help. i'm probably getting dehydrated, but i can't seem to help it. anyway, i feel like absolute crap.

Mazel Tov!

Congratulations, Karen, on the birth of your triplets!

putting the "ass" in embarrassed

Here's why I dislike "just leaving a message," particularly for businesses:

1. I have no way of knowing if they got the message or if they really do intend to return my call. I suspect I'm not as important as they've lead me to believe.

2. If I do not receive a return call, how long am I supposed to wait before calling again?

3. I prefer to speak with a human.

4. When put on the spot, I sometimes space on my phone number (when I know I'll need to give it, I often have it written down ahead of time.)

***

I've been trying to schedule a L&D tour at my local hospital for two (three?) weeks now, but no one is answering the phone. I didn't want to leave a message for the reasons listed above, but finally, today, I decided that due to TIME RUNNING OUT, I'd better just suck it up and leave the message and hope for the best. After being reassured how important I was, I was given a long list of details to include in the message (and though I can remember them now, here, quite clearly, I began to panic a little at the thought of remembering them all once the exceptionally long recording gave me the opportunity.)

I heard the beep.

I said my full name.

And choked on my phone number, felt like an asshole, and hung up without leaving the rest of my message.

I'm pretty sure it went like this, "Hi, my name is Twirl. My phone number is.... wow, I can't remember my phone number." Click.

So now I have NOT scheduled my tour, I have NOT left a (returnable) message, and I feel like much too big an ass to call back anytime soon. I get it that it's not the end of the world or the biggest deal ever, but why couldn't someone just answer the phone?

I'm looking at you, too.

We were walking through the hospital and P pointed out that a particular nurse was kind of staring at me oddly. Naturally, I wondered why.

According to P, I had no big booger, TP on my shoe, tags sticking out, or giant spots of food on my shirt, so I really don't know why the odd stare.

Sometimes, just walking through the grocery store or something, I think that there must be an infertile person who is hurt by seeing me pregnant. It is on those days that I wish I had a sign that read, "it took four years! and a relaxing vacation never helped!" but then I realize that it wouldn't matter. Four years, four months, whatever, I still have something that someone else doesn't have, can't have, and I know how that feels. I wish I could make it better. I wish everyone was this lucky. I wish...

We *heart* NY

We're going to be a little busy this coming anniversary, so we decided to go on a trip a bit early and call it an anniversary/"babymoon"/last two-person hurrah for a good long while. We had a gorgeous room at the Ritz-Carlton, New York, Battery Park. When we arrived at our hotel, we were upgraded to a corner suite with a fantastic view of new york harbor on one side and the city on the other:







Did you know that you can take a picture through a telescope? (that was in the room already! what a great toy to include!)



We're going to have to wait on our traditional champagne toast (where we, um, drink the whole bottle like the night we got engaged) but we had a fantastic time just being together with no distractions.

maybe she reads my blog

I ran into a woman at BRU who was shopping for her six month old daughter. The baby kept staring at me so I said hello and smiled at her and told her that she had a lovely bib. Mom and I chatted for a few minutes and then parted ways. About 45 minutes later I was in Target looking at bumbo seats and saw the same mom. Again we talked for a minute and then parted ways. It was a neat coincidence and left me wishing I had thought to ask her for her phone number or something but it didn't occur to me at the time and I'm not really sure that's appropriate anyway. Is it? Sometimes I feel so incredibly socially inept.

We coulda picked a boy's name, easy.

Naming a baby is hard.

I've named every doll or stuffed animal I've ever owned (and am still the proud owner of Jennifer, Kimberly, and possibly Lisa, who reside in a box. somewhere.) I used to play school (mostly by myself) and pretend to be the teacher. I had an old log book where I'd have full names listed for my 32 students. I selected the names for each of our pets.

I've always loved names. I like letters and I like seeing how things look and sound and flow. I have the name book that my mom used to select my name and my brother's name. I like seeing what she highlighted but didn't end up picking.

Like most girls who were born in the 70s, I knew (know) my fair share of Jennifers, Melissas, and Sarahs. Even though I didn't have a top 10 name, it was common enough and I loathed being "Twirl LastInitial" in school. My name is unisex and it was a pain to be "theGirlTwirl" in class. My mom spelled my name in a less common way, and so I had that to correct that as well. On one of my name plates (you know, the things taped to the desk) my teacher added an extra letter to the end of my name and when I corrected her, she colored over the letter and made it into a house. I liked that even less than my last initial.

I used to want to change my name (to, um, Morgan Fairchild, which I thought sounded lovely even though I had no idea who she was at the time.) I have since legally added the extra letter to my name to make it the most common spelling. I like how it looks now and I correct people much less frequently.

I think about these things a lot when considering a name for my daughter. I'm committed to the most common spelling of any name and roll my eyes at the "creative" spellers (so sorry mom, I know you thought it was pretty!) Among my top 20 names, there was only one gender neutral name. Would she care if she ran into a boy with the same name? I used the SSA list as a starting point for name gathering and, much to the irritation of helpful-name-suggesters, have refused to consider anything in the top 20. Would she care if she had to use her last initial? I've pored over popularity ratings and trends for each name I've considered, trying to determine if what I'm thinking of will become "the next jennifer/madison/emily."

P thinks I'm nuts. I took the top 1000 for 2006 and began eliminating. I whittled the list down to 50 or so before I let P begin eliminating. He got us down to 20. From there, I've had a list on the fridge since we found out she was a girl. I've liked mulling over the possibilities. People ask if we have a name yet and seem surprised when I tell them that I'm just enjoying the process of choosing. They usually smile at me and say, "you have time" or "well, some people don't decide until the baby is born" or something like that because they don't believe me that I don't want to rush the decision.

I've let P do most of the crossing off since the original list was mine to begin with. I think we're down to three now. As much as I've enjoyed thinking about this, I'm ready to have a name selected. I'm feeling a little panicked that there isn't one clear winner standing out yet. I know it works for some people, but I don't want to take a list into the delivery room with me. But I want to love what we pick and so I'm second-guessing myself on the final three. I want it to be right.

If I loved one of them, wouldn't I know? Or is it something you can grow into?

I could totally ramble on about this for many more paragraphs (initials! nicknames! my love affair with the letter A!) than you'd probably care to read. I may have already. I really ought to just. stop. typing.

Ridiculously obvious conclusion of the day: The reality of naming a human is much more complicated than naming a doll or a pet or an imaginary classroom of students.