Wind blew spring into these parts. On its way out winter invited my nausea to join it in leaving town and going into hibernation. I will miss neither of them.
I’ve been feeling better and better (though still no luck cooking or even looking in the fridge. gulp.) and I still can’t believe there’s a growing baby inside me.
I have to share with you that we call the baby “Baby Fifi”. And not because that is a name we’ve chosen, but because it’s a name my three year old chose. But you see, he has chosen it for everything.
If you ask him the name of his stuffed bear, his pet rock or even his shadow. The answer, quite confidently and without waiver, is “Fifi”.
Which means, when we asked him what we should name this baby, his answer of course - Fifi. However, we still haven’t changed our minds about finding out the gender, so Fifi remains a mystery. We have our hunches and God breathed signs, but we won’t be having that ultrasound.
Today I had the mind to take belly pics (in other words my 8 year old with my iphone standing on a chair took them), but then upon looking at them I realized they actually make me look smaller. I will not be sharing the straight on angles, because you guys? I’m pregnant ALL OVER. The straight on angle would terrify you. I’m smuggling a small barge, horizontally, under this dress. There’s a reason everyone thinks I’m having twins (another thing we won’t know for sure with no ultrasound).
The best thing ever is that last night I felt my first official Baby Fifi kick. No swimming, wiggling or fluttering, this was a full blown kick and almost hurt. I may have laughed hysterically for an uncomfortable amount of time, but my husband is used to my crazy.
No belly pic is complete without a sibling photobomb, so I leave you with this.