24 Weeks, 3 Days

I can not, can not, believe that we have begun our sixth month of pregnancy together.
It just sounds so...pregnant!
From here on out, it all will just sound very close and very big: seven months, eight, then nine.
It sort of scares me how fast the days are passing because there are several things that I need to get done before I can really concentrate on getting you here.

Our spring semester has begun and with it comes gorgeous weather and a jam-packed family schedule.
We're also wrapping up school for your oldest siblings, with hopefully next month (April) being our last.
May will be a play month, with a vacation scheduled and some fun holidays tossed in.
June is reserved for you, with me focusing completely on assembling your birth supplies, laundering your clothes (onesies in my wash again--so cute I can't stand it!), finalizing little things here and there like your name (such a "little" thing, yes? :)) and how we're going to negotiate your day of birth.

I'm still not certain on who I want here and how I want your siblings involved.
I asked Chas the other day if he was at all interested in seeing your birth and he quickly replied that he wasn't.
So it's good to know where he stands on things because that sort of sets the tone for the others a bit.
Part of me is still leaning towards a super private birth, with only the midwives and Daddy in attendance.
Another part of me thinks, maybe I should let the kids decide for themselves.
This seems to be a popular way of thinking in the home-birthing cicuit but if Chas doesn't really feel comfortable, then I'm not sure I need to encourage the rest of them.
Greer and Creux can't be unattended anyway so there will be another person here taking care of them during the birth and I haven't officially asked anyone yet though I do have some ideas.
It needs to be someone who is just here for them. 
And that's the hard part.
Because I don't want someone here who terribly wants to see you born because I need them to be focused on your siblings.
But at the same time, I suppose it needs to be someone who would be okay witnessing a birth and someone that I would be okay with witnessing your birth.
I can't say for sure what will happen so I need to think carefully about this decision.

I'm planning to enlist a little bit of summer help though and really would like someone here every day in the week or two leading up to your birth.
I'll be tired and busy and will be wanting to spend time with your siblings but won't be able to do everything.
Most importantly, I don't want them to lose their entire summer on account of me not wanting to do anything or go anywhere--I won't be able to do much in the weeks following your arrival. 
And even in the weeks leading up to your birth, I'll likely just feel like doing less in general.
But I'd still like everyone to be able to go to the pool, head out for ice cream, visit the playground--that type of stuff.

Not to mention that planning to have someone here during the last two weeks would be great for "just in case".  It will reduce my anxiety anyway just knowing that if something were to happen quickly, I at least have another adult close at hand to care for my smaller children. 

While I've long said that "everything is happening sooner" in this pregnancy with you, I have to say that I think I've hit my groove much later.
Which really makes sense when you think about it.
I feel almost totally normal these days--my energy is high, I'm not quite so drained all the time, I'm sleeping "ok" still.
This is what 18 weeks used to feel like.

Mostly right now my biggest problem is just regulating my mood swings.
Egads, those things are wicked.
I'm totally fine one minute and the next I'm a disaster.
This is much harder for Daddy than me, I think.
Usually he can joke around with me pretty heavily but these days, I'm more liable to end up with hurt feelings than anything else.
All I can say is, if you're going to crack a joke about a pregnant woman, it better be hi-lar-ious or you're going to be in deep doo-doo and you'll spend the next two hours explaining EXACTLY what you meant when you said something that you thought was funny but really was very, very stupid.
(Clearly here "you" is standing in for "he".  But it's good advice none-the-less.)

Anyway, he's been a little blind-sided by my changing the rules of engagement as far as the way we relate to each other.
He's quite baffled most of the time, really.
He says I've lost my sense of humor right now and he would be right.
I sort of have, at least in terms of dumb (really, they ARE dumb) comments.
My response to that was, "Then stop joking."

And I don't mean to make it sound like he's being unkind, he isn't, not purposefully anyway.
I'm just super sensitive in general.
So if he says anything that starts with "Don't take this the wrong way but (insert ridiculously stupid not funny comment)" I've got my verbal boxing gloves on before he's fully finished his sentence and the man is going down.

I will regain my sense of humor, I promise I will.
I like being funny.
I like joking around.
But apparently, I do not like it so much right now.
And he's tired of hearing, "ARE YOU REALLY THAT MALE???" screeched when he's trying hard to figure out why I'm ready to clobber him for saying something a bit off-color.
So maybe he'll just think his funny things for awhile and we can laugh about them in a year.
(The post-partum time period is another unfunny time.  In fact, it may be less funny than now.  Hopefully he will just be doodling rainbows on the walls and painting my toenails and feeding me chocolates and NOT SPEAKING for a few months.)

Okay, that was kind of funny.
I haven't completely lost my sense of humor.
(Am sticking out tongue in the direction of your father.  He's not paying attention to me, he's all hunched over his computer, probably writing an unfunny book of "What Not To Say When She's Pregnant, Hormonal, and Ready To Claw Your Eyes Out At A Moment's Notice.")

See?  FUNNY.

Some stats for you:

I'm drinking what feels like a bathtub-ful of water every day and still my hands feel swelly at night.
I can now barely lift either leg in the shower to shave which makes things, well, hairy.  (Get it?)
Once or twice a week I sleep in the sitting-up position.  That continues to scare the crap out of me because I'm afraid I will have to remain standing by week 38.
You squirm a lot.
You don't like it when I startle or yell.
I can feel small body parts these days--I think I can feel your head down near my pubic bone.  I pushed on it the other day and you freaked for a minute.  I didn't push again because it didn't feel so great to me either.

Mostly you can't hurt me anymore but last Thursday, you were knocking something bad and I ended up rocking back and forth,  hoping the motion of my body would get you to go back to sleep.
That's officially the weirdest pregnant thing I've ever done.
But it worked. 
After a few minutes, you went back to sleep and quit punching me.
Fetus, newborn--same thing, really.  You babies like movement.

If Greer could pick your name, it would be "Gracie" or "Ella".
She doesn't even consider boy ones for you, sorry.

I ordered my first something for you today--a little duckie washcloth.
And I found the sweetest, coziest, fluffiest towel ever and when I imagined wrapping you in it, I thought..."Oh my gosh, I'm going to have a baby soon."  My stomach dropped a bit.  You babies still do that to me, even after four, even expecting five.

A replacement charm, another number '5', that you'd given me for Christmas that later fell off somewhere, is now dangling from my wrist again.
(It arrived in the form of a "peace offering" from our very own funny man.  The peace was restored instantly, and I do mean instantly.)
It feels good to have it back--I really didn't like getting it and then losing it. 
It almost seemed like bad luck.

Mama's done babbling for the night--I always mean to say just a thing or two and then I realize I've written a book inside a book!
Sweet dreams to you, wee one.

Loving you already,
Mama