When my husband and I were in those early months of dating, I would often daydream about our future children. He and I would discuss names, talk about how we couldn’t wait to grow our […]
When my husband and I were in those early months of dating, I would often daydream about our future children. He and I would discuss names, talk about how we couldn’t wait to grow our family and imagine if a baby of ours would have his dimples or my ears. I was excited; excited to be in love and excited to think about the future with this man.
What I, admittedly, wasn’t too excited about? That our first baby together would not be his first baby.
Don’t get me wrong; I am head over heels in love with my stepchildren. It doesn’t even occur to me anymore that this isn’t David’s first baby, it just feels like this is our third baby. Our family feels like it’s growing, not just starting out, and I could not be more grateful for that. But if I could change anything, I wish I could go back in time to that girl who was so worried. I wish I could show her snapshots of her husband’s face when he unwrapped the gray and yellow onesies she gave him the day she found out she was pregnant. I wish I could play her a video of how sweetly her husband talks to her belly, even when she was only six weeks and the only thing that could be listening didn’t even have ears yet. I wish I could tell her just how excited he’s going to be, no matter how many babies there are.
But now, at 15 weeks pregnant, I can’t get over how excited we all are for this sweet baby. Based on several different pregnancy apps, books and websites, our baby is either the size of an avocado or a navel orange (Which I have issues with, because y’all: navel oranges vary greatly in size). It’s anywhere, according to these “experts”, from 3-4 inches long and weighs 2.5–3.5 ounces. If, like me, that means absolutely nothing to you, I’m sorry. I’ve tried to find other things to compare this baby to, but it just doesn’t compute in my head. I’ve never been very good at “guesstimating” or envisioning things that involve real live numbers. I’m going with my gut instinct: the baby is the size of a cupcake.
(And if we are what we eat? The baby is a cupcake.)
At 15 weeks, however, I am definitely feeling my absolute best so far this pregnancy. I was lucky those first few weeks; I had very limited morning sickness, and always felt better after … well … you know… bowing down to the porcelain throne or whatever you want to call it. I never had all day nausea like so many others, and my only food aversion was ground beef. I was flat out exhausted and had some rough headaches, but seeing the flicker of the heartbeat at my first ultrasound? Well, I know it’s a cliché, but it’s a cliché for a reason: It’s all been worth it.
I am feeling great these last couple of weeks. My energy is back, along with my appetite, and I can’t get enough sweet things. My biggest craving, unfortunately, has been watermelon and cantaloupe, which tells me this baby’s going to be a dreamer like his/her mama: OF COURSE we want delicious, ripe, summer fruit in the middle of an ice storm.
But the absolute best part of being pregnant is knowing that there’s going to be a third running around our home. My stepchildren, Chloe and Trey, are seven and soon-to-be five, so they totally get that their Sammy has a baby in their belly. They love to press their ears up to my tummy and tell the baby about things like light sabers (Trey) and how they really want the baby to be a girl (Chloe). We’ve even discussed names with them, although Trey is no longer a fan of our top boy name. Instead, he’d prefer if we named the baby “Baseball-Head”.
Oh you guys. Can life get any sweeter?
(Sure it could. If Mama could get some WATERMELON already. And a red velvet cupcake. With heart sprinkles.)