Eight Months

I can't believe I'm writing this. I feel like I'm on hyperdrive, experiencing pregnancy whiplash, dramatizing what everybody always says: It goes so fast. But it really does. In less than two months, we'll have a Baby. Another boy baby. Rounding out our family nicely with our current three male children. I'm excited/nervous about birth/excited.


I spent two weeks with my family in Southern California and in Salt Lake City. We played in the sand, watched movies, fell asleep to the sound of waves, and ate lots of dark chocolate. In Utah, we hung out with bestie aunts, uncles, and cousins, ate fresh lettuce from the garden, and attended a dear family friend's funeral. It was a bittersweet visit. 

We're back in the Bay. Back to our routine, however different for the summer. Some camps, some preschool, lots of park time, lots of backyard time. I made yogurt for the first time. I spent Fourth of July in the hospital. (All is well.) I'm reading everything I can get my hands on. I took a break from the podcast/blogging/social media in entirety. It felt/feels so good. I'm wrapping up a couple projects and then I'll be home free for several months. I self-prescribed maternity leave from August-October to relieve my mind of what-ifs. I've learned from past mistakes to set boundaries and respect myself and my newborn.

When I had my first baby, I was responding to client emails and making changes when he was one day old. Recalling this makes me quite, quite angry. I didn't know what I didn't know. 


The baby swaddles and knit rompers are washed. The bouncer, car seat, and bassinet are ready. I look like I have a basketball stuck to my belly--and have been eating too much ice cream. (I have.) I've only seen him once, at twenty weeks. He was beautiful. Same ski slope nose as his brothers'. Strong heartbeat and kicks. He turned and looked right at the camera, showing the tech and I picture perfect Nightmare Before Christmas skull shot. Still, he looked beautiful. I can't wait to hold him. Have him safe in my arms, anxious to eat and sleep. Give him his name. Dress him up in all his gifted baby clothes and ridiculous bonnets.

I've switched gears entirely from leaning in, to curling up, laying on my left side, holding my stomach, and quietly reading. It's all about the bubble now. Keeping it secure, keeping us safe, and getting through the home stretch. 

Approximately six weeks to go until I officially meet this little turkey. I can't wait.