House of Boys

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. 

Nesting

I've felt high for the entire 6 months of this pregnancy thus far.  Ecstatic. Elated. Energetic. Sure, I've had my "moments" of frustration, anger, sadness- but overall, I feel fantastic.

This second trimester, however, has been, well, interesting on top of everything else.  I am a nesting fool.  Really.  I have felt the need to clean and organize , but mostly, my nesting comes in the form of craftiness.  And, in most cases, I mean by painting.  I am on my third room now. The dining room. Hardly a necessity. But, since I am not ready to do IV's room, yet, I chose a different project.  

Although it is a bit tiring and my arm feels slightly cramped, I've been enjoying it tremendously, and it's not like my house can't use an overhaul. 

I just hope the need, the desire, the energy, continues long enough to get the baby's room done next month. 

I had just nested through the organization of the dining room, and I must say, I was loving it, so neat and so clean. Now, it is in shambles, packed up, and rearranged, so that I can paint monotone- blue on blue stripes onto each of the walls.  

At this rate, every shade of blue should be well represented in my house before I give birth. 

Every pregnancy is different, just as every kid is different.  4th time in you realize that life doesn't stop 'cause your pregnant. It won't even stop 'cause I give birth. It may come to a quick pause, but that will be all.  I've learned I can't sit around waiting for March to come. It will, and quickly.  So, I continue on as if everything is the same as it was 6 months ago. Deep down, I know so much is different, better- but still so much is the same.  

I can't wait to meet you IV. I really can't.  But, since I have to, I am off...to paint some more.  

6 Months

I stay up entirely too late at night.  I should be sleeping, it's nearly midnight and I am 6 months pregnant. But, I have energy, pregnancy induced, of course, and my hours in the quiet, as the middle of the night approaches, are mine. All mine.  Finally, my feet are up.  Finally, I'm relaxing. I can put my hand on my belly and spend some time feeling my very active baby boy.

He kicks me all day long, let's me know he's there and ready to hit the ground running.  But, during these quiet hours, is when I can sit, and enjoy it.  Feel it. Experience it.  Love it.  

I love being pregnant.  I always have. I wasn't sure that being pregnant at nearly 40 would be this enjoyable.  But is is. Perhaps even more so. The surprise still lingering, the joys of the unexpected, and the wonderful feeling of being pregnant, this time- for the last time.  

Fourth and Final

Physically, I feel great. This pregnancy, as my others had been, has been kind to me. I know I'm fortunate that it is easy for me to forget I am pregnant. I also know what you're thinking, I forget a lot of things, which is true.  But, still, the way my body feels day to day, nearly six months in, is very, well, normal. Until I try to fit into a space between a wall and a chair, that I would normally fit into, and suddenly I am wedged because my belly has finally outgrown my boobs.  I chuckle as I am quickly reminded that I am with child.

And, for what it is worth, IV doesn't let me forget about him easily.  He causes me no aggravation at all but is very active and his kicks and jabs are constant enough that I can feel him when ever I want that special moment.  

I love the kicks and the jabs.  That is something only I can share with my baby boy.  Nobody else can have those moments, those special reminders of his being, of his soul, of him. I cherish it, knowing full well this is my last pregnancy and I won't have moments like those again. 

I know. I said that before. I did. And, I meant it.  This blessing was an unexpected surprise that I welcome whole heartedly.  But, there won't be another.  Todd is getting a vasectomy. I wouldn't have been as comfortable with that decision a few years ago. But, now, four kids in and just about 40, I know this is the right decision.  

IV- I can't wait to meet you. 

I love this photo! Alex's Bat Mitzvah- COUSINS

4!

Hi 4,

4.  That is what we call you, at least while you are in utero.  Only, I like it and wonder if it could stick when you enter this world.

Time is passing quickly, as it always does, and it won't be long before I meet you.   I grow more and more excited as each day passes, as my belly grows larger and larger.  Sure, there is still so much to figure out, so much to do, but, still, I can't wait to hold you for the very first time.

I am getting to know you as you live inside of me.  My pregnancy is smooth sailing thus far. I feel fantastic, like I am high all of the time.  I can only assume that is you, your pleasant manner and happy spirit, affecting me in the very best way.

You're an active little guy, I often feel your movements.  I love it, each kick, each tumble. It's those special moments that remain sacred between you and I and I am so very grateful to have them tattooed on my memory.

At first, in the beginning of this pregnancy, all I wanted to do was watch football.  And, I felt the need to belch occasionally. Or, more often.  This was how I knew you were a boy.  Then, I thought, this guy is another little athlete like his brother Chase.

But, half-way through my second trimester, I think you will be an artist.  Or, an artist also.  My creative juices are overflowing and I feel extremely ambitious in a number of DIY and craft projects.  Although I love the idea of that stuff normally, I wouldn't say I do any of it.  Yet, right now, it's all I want to do.


I just crafted two home-made halloween costumes, for the first time ever.  I desire to paint your bedroom and Chase and Ryder's myself, and I look forward to making wimpels for each and every one of my sons.  I want to cook.  I want to organize. I want to do art.

I don't know who you will be, nor do I know what will take place past March, when you are here instead of just in my uterus.  All I know is, as much as I can't wait to find out, I am going to enjoy these days to the fullest.

Face