It's a Boy!!

We need names.

Logistics

Our life has been sort of complicated. And, generally speaking, I don't do that well with complicated. I'm usually sort of a stress case amid complication.

That is probably what Brad and my mom would call an understatement.

Let me explain the complications. This will take a while. And there will be no pictures. I will forgive you if you leave.

We are planning on moving. Back to our home. Which has, to this time, been cared for by loving renters. It is in Carlsbad. New Mexico. We plan to move in August.

You might also recall that I have a baby coming that month.

What you might not know is when I found out I was pregnant was about the same time I found out that we might be moving. Somewhere. Anywhere. Who knows where.

So I put off going to the doctor for a lot of reasons. Good reasons. Like... health insurance concerns. And doctor care concerns. Possibly denial. See? Good reasons.

However. We finally made a decision about where we will be living. I think. Pretty sure.

This meant I could finally make an appointment with an ob/midwife group. They delivered Claire. They work an hour and a half from the small town we will be living in. [Claire came in 4 hours, start to finish, barely giving me time to get up there. Hope this one's not any faster. Can anyone imagine Brad delivering a baby in the backseat of a Camry?]

So at 5 and a half months, I had my first visit. Then they scheduled me for my next visit where they would be taking my labs and giving me an ultrasound.

Before you read this next part, please realize that I currently actually live 5 hours away from my doctor. But I am due in August [I think], and we are moving toward the ob in August. So why visit somebody here in Lubbock when I already know where I will be moving and I already love the doctor there? Right? Clear? Good. I know, my logic is irrefutable.

So we've been commuting back and forth between our Lubbock and Carlsbad. We've been looking for jobs, registering for kindergarten, and most recently making a visit to the ob [in Roswell]. When I made my second appointment, we scheduled another road trip to Carlsbad/Roswell.

Only.

I. wrote. the. wrong. date.

I showed up to my ultrasound [after a very long drive] a day late. No, they could not fit me in. This office services a rural community of people who show up from all over. They. are. backed. up.

I'm sure you can imagine my frustration. humiliation. my really red and dejected, almost weepy face.

I had wasted so much time. In terms of driving, in terms of baby gestation and planning for a boy or girl, I had been irresponsible...

But Brad [who had driven me to the appointment] just laughed. Comforted me. Took me to lunch. Gave me permission to temporarily ignore texts from my family asking whether the baby was a boy or a girl. Told me not to worry.

He is apparently not a stress case amid complication.

Then we drove the hour and a half back to Carlsbad, stayed a few nights, and drove three and a half hours back to Lubbock.

Now I am seven months pregnant. Have not yet had labs or an ultrasound. I am scheduled for one on Tuesday. This Tuesday. Pretty sure. I wrote it down.

But guess what the really serious downside of having a late ultrasound is? The further along a pregnancy, the less precise the due date.

This means that sometime in August I will be moving. And having a baby. Sometime. Hopefully in that order.

Wish I could reserve my mom for the whole month, but my brother is getting married the last week of August. [also wish I could go to the wedding, but you can only wish for so many things.]

Excuse me while I hyperventilate.

He also has a sense of humor.

I just got the first church calling I've had in 6 months.

I'm so excited about teaching little munchkins in Primary. Can't even tell you.

So tonight, I've been studying the manual just before putting my children to bed.

And, as usual, Claire delays bedtime as long as possible. But this time (no, this is not usual), she chokes on a nickel and throws up all over next week's lesson.

It's entitled, "Jesus Christ has the Power to Heal."

Won't it be funny... when I'm released... for the next teacher to come across that page smelling strongly of vomit?

I hope her first thought is, "What kind of object lesson was that?"

Helpful tip.

If you have a two year old, it might be a good practice to open your oven and check it thoroughly before turning it on.

Otherwise, you may open the oven to put in dessert, and find a rack full of melting kitchen accessories.

The good news is, I think our can opener is still usable. Everybody cheer.