Sympathy Weight

Emma’s gaining “sympathy weight.”

 

What do you think, boy or girl?

 

It’s a, it’s a…

Horse!?

Makes sense, giving birth to animals runs in the family.  I’m pretty sure Portia thinks I birthed her.

Evidence

So that you can use the powers of old wives tales and intuition…

My darling daughter took the pictures mere moments ago.  She even told me how to pose.

What did the camel say to the scribe?

Nobody knows, except Janelle and she isn’t telling.

This question came up at lunch the other day with friends after church.  For a minute I sat back and looked at all the ruckus, 6 adults, 7 children, and felt very happy.  We are blessed to have friends that are the funniest, wittiest, generous, most thoughtful people we know.  (You guys can buy me lunch next week)  And there are more of them too.  

Summer has been busy but not too exciting.  Friday we are going to get an ultasound and hopefully find out the gender of this child.  But before that happens I thought it’d be fun to have the four of you that read this to guess what the gender is and why.  There are so many “old wives tales” for guessing gender.  The other day someone told me I was having a boy because I don’t look pregnant from the back.  Not sure why the two things would correlate, but that’s what I’m looking for.  So please, give me your thoughts.  The truth revealed (hopefully) on Friday.

That’s Entertainment

So, I’ve been watching “America’s Best Dance Crew” and “So You Think You Can Dance.” I have a deep longing to be a dancer or to be able to dance at all. Found this video and thought this group could be the best dance crew.

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Hurry up and wait

So, Emma and I went to the doctor last Monday.  I was hoping it’d be more exciting for Emma.  Heard the heart beat.  Took some blood.  Made THE appointment.  The one where we find out if the baby will need pink or blue.  We didn’t find out when I was pregnant with Emma, but this time I want to know.

And now back to the regularly scheduled waiting.

Four Pounds

My sweet baby Portia came home 4 1/2 pounds.  She was the runt of her litter.  And now, she is not so small.  But, I think we’re making progress.  I bet she’s down to 125.

Then:

Now:

Sweet sounds of summer

Last week Emma and I drove to the OC for Portia’s vet visit.  On our trek we listened to some worship music and sang our hearts out.  Now, it wouldn’t sound pretty to the human ear but it was sweet to our savior.  It was pretty amazing to me as well.

Then today Emma sat next to me in our recliner and we made up stories using one of my favorite of Emma’s toys.  We laughed so hard it hurt.  I love her laugh.  It is so pure and joyful.  

These are the moments I want to stick in the vault.  When I’m old and senile, I hope I can have at least these memories.  I may not remember where my teeth are, but I will remember her little girl laugh.

The time in-between

I have noticed that a week after each doctor appointment I start to feel a little nervous. I start to wonder if everything is okay. I still have a hard time believing that this is actually happening. I had wanted to be pregnant for SO LONG. It just feels very surreal.

Next Monday is my next appointment. Emma has asked if she can join me. I want her to come, I want her to participate in the experience. But the dark side of my brain wonders, “what if it’s bad, I don’t want her there if it’s bad news.” Where is my faith?

The truth is my faith is in tact. There are no guarantees that everything will go well. My faith is in God, not my circumstances.  I trust that whatever happens, I am in God’s hands.  So, no matter what happens at the doctor I want Emma to be there.  To experience my faith, joy or possible sorrow.  But, as sick as I still feel at night, I would think things are going well.