I am 28 weeks pregnant. I have less than 3 months to go. I've gained 19 pounds, 90% of which has landed in my boobs and my belly. I feel, mostly, fantastic with the occasional interruption of a belly full of pressure and a contraction. I don't sleep much, and my nesting has been a bit out of control. I am slightly addicted to chocolate, which considering my desire for it when I am not pregnant, really doesn't come as a surprise.
Last weekend we started registering- an exhausting, overwhelming activity made so much easier by knowing that baby IV is a boy. My, how it changes things. We also began painting his room. A work in progress that I look forward to finishing.
We have a basement and a garage full of stuff for the little man, most of which was given to us , and it is is hard to believe that soon, very soon, he will be here....with us.
I do love being pregnant, all over again. I love the natural high I feel from the hormones rushing inside of me. I love the smiles strangers give me- a silent congratulations on that wonderful miracle. I love the privilege I carry around of being the sole provider of this guy. And, mostly, I love feeling him kick and squirm within me, reminding me he is there, he is healthy, and he is ready to hit the ground running.
I remember being pregnant with the twins and people were astonished. "Oh my, twins!" "How lucky." "How will you do it?" A million different comments and questions, mostly of praise, of the miracle of two, as If they are so rare. They're not.
This time, it's different. The smiles are the same but when they ask "is this your first,?" And it is followed up by, "nope, my 4th" it's a look of sheer shock. Concern? Perhaps they wonder if they should call 911 because, clearly, I must be nuts? Their eyes open a bit wider, their jaw drops just a bit more. Usually, they will recover quickly and continue "wow, number 4, congratulations. How wonderful" or some other similar nicety. Then, just to see the reaction, I follow up again, "yeah, it's my fourth son!" This pretty much raises their blood pressure, I can see the veins popping in their eyes. "4 boys. Wow. You must be disappointed it isn't a girl". (I am not!) and, "gonna try for the 5th and see if you have better luck?" Again, I'm not, and I don't feel unlucky. Not one bit. In fact it is just the opposite. I am totally and completely blessed to be the chosen parent of these boys and wouldn't change a thing. Sure, a girl would have been nice, but as I live my day to day, as I sit at my dinner table with the noise and the chaos and the constant motion, as I enter a bedroom equipt with a face mask to protect myself from the fumes of thisr rooms, I realize a little girl would never fit in here. No way. This is definitely a house of boys. My boys.
