About six weeks ago Brian and I took the kids on a popular hike up Little Cottonwood Canyon to a place called Cecret Lake.
Alpine spring was at its peak; as Eleanor put it, “Mom, there are dillions of flowers here!” The trail was busy, but the lake was still peaceful. Jeffrey had fun watching some other kids catch salamanders.
But, on our way back down, the weather changed from sunny to cloudy, and it began to rain.
And then hail.
As we scurried to take cover under some trees, Jeffrey turned back towards me. “You’d better keep that BABY warm!” he shouted, all concern.
Jeffrey wasn’t worried about William, but the baby in my tummy. For those of you who haven’t heard, I’m expecting a baby on January 19.
Yes! Number four, our winter baby (since we’ve already had spring, summer, and autumn babies). We just found out this week that it’s a girl! Eleanor was so excited that she hopped up and down at the news.
“Mom, don’t worry, I know all the best baby games, like Peek-a-Boo and This Little Piggy,” she said.
All three of them enjoy singing songs to my tummy, and William will frequently give the baby hugs. If I put my arms around him during a baby hug, he gets annoyed. “No, Mom. It’s the baby’s hug.”
I’ve been feeling fine — oddly, I haven’t experienced much morning sickness with this pregnancy, just extreme fatigue. (My current motto is “Napping Towards Glory.”) Although most of my summer was spent crumpled up in a state of continual exhaustion, I suppose I’d rather get hit with the Fatigue Stick than the Nausea Stick, anytime.
My attitude towards the baby is kind of mixed — I’m happy and excited to have another person in the family, but I dread, dread, dread that first year of infancy. I had recurring breast infections with all three of my other kids, and I was just getting used to not having to drag a stroller with me everywhere I go. Augh, and doctor and dentist appointments. I won’t be able to do them during the daytime anymore. But let’s not ruminate on this stuff. A baby girl is a great thing to snuggle, cuddle and watch grow. This is what I wanted — I certainly had to jump through enough medical hoops (what with my heart and all) to get this far. Enough with the whining.
Unless she’s a blonde. Then I won’t have the foggiest idea what to do.
(There are no blonde women in my immediate family. Or my mother’s family. And so on. Augh.)