|photo courtesy of Lilly :)|
At my SAT class on Saturday, an older man who teaches the English portion of the SAT classes asked me when I was due. When I told him I have eight weeks to go, he said, "well, I'm no doctor, but that doesn't look like a baby who still has two months to go! If you make it eight more weeks, I'll be impressed." Just like with Jack, my stomach is huge. I actually think it's bigger. And I agree with this teacher; I often look down at my stomach and wonder how much more growing this baby can do in the next 8 weeks.
I still love being pregnant. I love all the little kicks and punches--although now they're not so little. Jim and I have felt feet move across my stomach and seen my whole stomach change shape as the baby repositions itself. I love the hiccups that seem to come at the end of every day; the constant reminders that we'll have a new little member of our family this March. When Jack comes up to me and holds onto my legs, I can't see his little face looking up anymore. Putting on and taking off my boots is difficult. Painting my toe nails is close to impossible. I remember all these milestones with Lilly and Jack, and know that it means the end of the pregnancy is quickly approaching. I'm definitely in the home stretch. Unlike with Lilly and Jack, I'm in no rush to have this baby! Check back in with me in March, but for the moment, I'm very happy with this baby inside.
Jim and I are taking advantage of every quiet evening and every sleep in. Lilly will say things like, "Today, I get to have creative movement at school, and then tomorrow, I have ballet, and then the next day, we'll have a new baby!!!!!" Jim and I quickly reassure her that we've still got a little while to go. After all, we haven't had a single name discussion. I brought up names when we were out for a walk the other day, and Jim said, "I knew you were going to try and talk about names now!" Like it's completely out of the ordinary for me to want to have some idea what we're going to name this baby in two short months. We always go right down to the wire with names anyway. When Jack was born, we went into hospital with three boy names, and both of us looked at him and just knew he was our Jack. I hope it's that easy this time around.
I haven't been as religious about going to the gym this time. Between sicknesses and SAT classes and tutoring and being a Mum and wife, life has been busy. I know I can make time in the morning, but I also know that quiet mornings are precious commodities and that I get quite a bit of exercise being on my feet for most of the day with Lilly and Jack. I'm tired and my body is tired. We still go for long walks most afternoons, but prenatal yoga, which I loved during my previous pregnancies, hasn't worked out so far this time.
So, for the next eight weeks, I'm going to enjoy being pregnant; enjoy quiet evenings with Jim, reading and watching movies; enjoy Lilly and Jack and our daily routines. I'm going to enjoy life as a family of four. I'm going to enjoy the kicks and punches and hiccups and know that when baby Clark #3 arrives, a whole new chapter of our life will begin.