Seven Months

Yesterday I went to the DMV for the usual fun one has there.  The trip was not a total waste, in that I did manage to get them to put my married name on my license for the first time. At my last renewal, although I had my marriage certificate with me, a battle had ensued between me and the petty bureaucrat civil servant behind the desk, which had ended with him demanding a court order and telling me that until I had one, "That's not your name!" (long story)  Finally I just decided to bide my time until my next renewal and try with someone else.  I mostly only cared because I want all my documents to say the exact same thing, what with airport security occasionally being a hassle and things like that.

This time, a much more reasonable gentleman accepted my other federally issued documents along with a lot of random pocket litter as evidence that I am, in fact, myself, so I was happy--not only because I had had to wait four years, but also because when I arrived at the DMV the first time yesterday morning, I learned that they neither accept cash nor credit cards. Since I don't carry my checkbook around, nor had obtained a money order (I kid you not; this is what they suggested), I'd been home and was there for my second trip.

When all was said and done, I had my official documents along with a new picture, and remembered on seeing the size of my face that I was seven months pregnant. Ah well.

All this is by way of getting around to say that while it's getting harder to forget or fail to notice, my memory loss has also accelerated, so I'm pretty much holding at a constant state of "oh-that's-right!"in my short-term awareness of this pregnancy.  I mean, I'm more aware this time that there's going to be a new baby in our house--the first time, I couldn't quite imagine that.  But I don't think about the fact that I, myself, am a pregnant woman with the shock and interest that I did the first time (which is probably more healthy and way less annoying anyway).

Still, I did want to record a few things about this pregnancy.  The first trimester was much, much easier, with a couple of rough months but only a few truly horrible days.  After that, it's been smooth sailing.  I did do a couple of screening tests that I hadn't been subjected to previously because I'm now 38, and those each caused some alarm which was then resolved with further testing. Not especially fun, but those were kind of external factors--the kiddo himself has caused me very little trouble and seems to be a pretty active little guy.  He really likes chocolate.  He moves a lot more than either of the girls, and his kicks are a lot stronger.  I don't know if it's gender or personality or what, but he's constantly in motion. AC had long periods of relative slothfulness and then brief bursts of violence, which is still emblematic of her personality.  Gillian just gently rolled around in a constant, quiet manner, also consistent with who she turned out to be.  I'm excited to see who he is.

And my excitement, however great, is almost nothing compared to the girls'.  Allison Clare is excited because it's news that she gets to share, and news that often gets a big response from people she tells (which is everyone who ranges within earshot).  Gillian is excited because she really loves him already.  It started one day when she gently rubbed my stomach, and I told her the baby liked it.  She internalized this with her deep, big-eyed seriousness, and she is now constantly interested in the baby's response to everything she does.  She comes over and holds my hand, stroking it with her little soft fingers, and whispers, "Does the baby like that?"  Or she stands on one foot and balances, then asks in her curious little voice: "Does the baby like when I do this?"

People often ask if Sam is excited to have a boy.  The truth is, what Sam is, is mainly terrified. We are both scared of being outnumbered, but it's the kind of scared where you know something is going to be good, but you just don't know how you're going to actually do it.  I think there's a feeling of safety in that we believe that this baby was called into being by God (it felt like an inspired choice), even though we also know that it's going to strain us in certain ways, and we want to protect our sanity, our enjoyment of our marriage, etc.  And I think we are both looking forward to the mystery of what it will be like to have a son, the completely new experience of it.

We are less than two months away!