As most of you know, Bubs is the nickname we had for George was I was pregnant. Sometimes we still call him that. And now that I’m pregnant again, Baby #2 has been slapped with the same nickname. So “Our Bubs” seems appropriate.
Thanks for making the switch, and we hope to have lots more baby fluff to come!
Since this blog is going to be about more than just Georgie, it only seems appropriate that I should rename it. Additionally, I think I will be moving it elsewhere.
To our friends and loved ones, I will be sending out an e-mail with the password to you so that you can view Georgie in all his funny, toddlerish glory.
Well, I finally figured out why I’m cranky, tired and slightly nauseous.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect; a few months ago I started taking herbs to try and get my cycle to return so that we could start trying for #2. I thought I was gearing up to ovulate, but then nothing. I figured my cycle would return eventually, but I was hoping for sooner rather than later.
Out of the blue (well, at least I thought it was out of the blue) George said, “Go take a pregnancy test.” I fought him for two weeks — “Do you have any idea how rare it is for a woman to actually ovulate the first cycle? And on top of that, over 90% of women have an anovulatory cycle first. When I have one, I’ll start charting.”
Finally I took a pregnancy test, and there it was, proof beyond a doubt, two lines.
First midwife appointment scheduled for next weekend, hopefully we’ll hear the baby’s heartbeat and get an idea of how far along I am (another reason why I’m a little upset that I wasn’t charting — I hate being at the mercy of their numbers/sonograms to determine how far along they think I am).
When we tell Georgie to “smooch the baby” he blows raspberries on my stomach. And if you ask him, “Is the baby a boy or a girl?” He immediately answers “Girl.” No questions asked.
I remember when my mom was pregnant with my younger sister, and she asked me if I wanted to come feel the baby kick. I said “No.” I was four years old and not interested in having my position as Only Child usurped in any way. I remember getting yelled at because I didn’t want to feel the baby… it’s funny what you remember.
We’re having a difficult time on the sleeping front. I thought that, perhaps when tooth #6 pushed its way through, we might actually get a break and he may sleep for more than a three-hour stretch… no luck so far. I’m so frustrated and tired that I’ve actually considered crying it out, which is amazing since I do NOT believe in it. Ugh. We have to figure something out, or I’m not going to make it.
I’ve been very cranky of late; little things like this, which normally don’t bother me, really are getting on my nerves.
(I deleted an anonymously-posted comment because it contained vulgarity. I’m amazed at how ignorant people are so quick to peck away at their keyboards when shielded with relative anonymity. It makes the littlest people feel strong.)
Off to do taxes — oh, yay.