There is a bag of toddler girl clothes sitting on the floor of my bedroom. With a heavy heart, early this winter, I set aside those clothes to send to my sister, Robin. She has a little girl, nearly two, who would be able to use them soon. Coming to terms with the fact that our family was complete wasn't easy for me. Getting rid of those clothes was one step towards shutting that door and moving on. I promised I would send them as soon as our winter vacation was over...
Soon after Matt arrived home, after several months in Iraq, the roar that is meniere's disease returned to my ears, after over 18-months of relative quiet. I became downtrodden and depressed. I spent our vacation in Italy trying to watch my salt intake (impossible on vacation), taking only sips of wine, and slept whenever I could. My head pounded. I couldn't hear well. I felt dizzy and disillusioned. I wallowed in self-pity. The entire month of January I can only remember one, maybe two, times in which Matt and I could have possibly done something to create new life.
Towards the end of January, I noticed a pain in my lower-right abdomen. Sure it was an ovarian cyst, I made an appointment to see someone who could take a look at it. Before I could get in, however, I spoke to a nurse about it who suggested that I could be pregnant. To which I replied, "I've been pregnant twice before, I'd know if I was pregnant."
The meniere's disease had decided to hibernate for a bit (and still is, thankfully). So, I started a workout program at home. I dropped several pounds in two weeks and then hurt my knee. Before I could get in to see the doctor about my "cyst," I saw a doctor about my knee. While at the appointment, I thought, "Why not take a pregnancy test? It's free and at least that will be ruled out before next week's appointment. One less thing for the doctor to have to check."
The doctor put in a pregnancy blood test request and off to the lab I went. I drove home, mostly forgetting about the test. Come on! There was no way I was pregnant. So, when my phone rang a few hours later and the doctor informed me I was going to have another child, I asked him if he was kidding. He wasn't. Obviously, I wasn't my normal, careful self during those one or two times I barely remember happening in January. Standing in the kitchen, phone in my hand, the question I then asked myself was, "How the heck do I tell Matt? He had recently told the girls he was done having kids because the odds were stacked against him that we would have a boy and he did not want another girl.
So, I did what any scaredy cat does. She sends an email to her spouse at work, of course! Yup, that is how I informed Matt he was going to be a father for the third time this coming October (2OCT)! He was, surprisingly, joyous and now holds on to the tiny thread of hope that it will be a boy. Olivia holds onto this hope too. Lila is sure it's a girl. Mention a boy, and she cries. Real tears. She doesn't like boys.
As for me, I'm holding on tightly to those girl clothes. I do not have a boy "vibe." I'm not feeling it. I'm quite certain it is a girl. I spend a part of each day looking online at baby name sites - searching for the perfect girl name.
