It's a girl!!! ....and i'm in trouble.

So yes, we've found out that our baby is a little girl. Her name is Moira Carolyn. So 2 things:


1. We've received a lot of flack about the first name. My man and I are undaunted. We've both loved the name since each of us, independently, were little so there's no chance in changing it. What amuses me, yes I'm genuinely amused, is that people somehow think that their opinion will change the decision of the people who are actually having the child. That somehow they are intimately involved in the intimate... My husband and I struggled on boy names but the girl name we both KNEW immediately. Much prayer and time went into the name, but still we knew from the beginning (at least from the time that plus sign showed up on the little stick) that if it was a girl, her name would be Moira. With my man being so vehemently against nicknames or shortening her name somehow, we've been helping some family and friends learn how to say it. In case you wondered, it's pronounced like Moy-Rah. 2 syllables. Easy-peasy. Think Irish while pronouncing it and you're all good. :) My main question is, "Why does it matter what someone else names their child?" It may not be common but it doesn't fall into the list of absurd made up names or re-pronunciations of brand names... I genuinely don't understand. Anyone have insight? Bring it!

2. I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not ready for this baby. I have quietly passed my halfway mark. For those of you who don't know what the heck that means, I'll break it down. It takes 40 weeks from the time of conception to the time of birth...roughly. Obviously few babies are right on that 40 week mark, but that's the average. I passed my 20 week mark last Friday. The closer I get, the more not ready I become. Even though I'm sure, at some point, that I will reach a place where I just want this pushy, hungry little girl out - I still won't be ready. Even when I have her in my arms, I'm still sure I won't be ready. I'm not looking for encouragement, or the "You'll be okay". I know all of that, but the thought that somehow God felt that I could not only be trusted to HAVE a child, but then raise it to be a functioning part of society is terrifying. I know He knows me...but for real?! He doesn't make mistakes, yet somehow I still need to question Him. Then there's the whole "Paying for my raising" part that just scares the crap out of me. I already know she's stubborn. Will I have it in me to out-stubborn her or will they have to invent a new word to properly embody that level of stubbornness. I don't even know what to do with a baby. The last baby I took care of was my cousin's who is now in his 20s... I so wish I were kidding. Granted, I'm married to a man who was born to be a daddy and all these things are just naturally there for him - but he won't be there the whole time and I may just have to cry with the baby at times. How often will this baby look at me and think...."did I roll snake eyes on the parent pick or what?!"? I suppose we're stuck with each other... Perhaps I'm thinking too far ahead for the moment. Maybe I should just enjoy being woken up by a dancing baby girl (that tickles like crazy at this stage) who just needs to get her breakfasts (yes, plural) on and just take it as it comes...


Okay... I need chocolate milk STAT! Let's do this thing...

This baby hates me and it has taken over my mind...

Apparently, just screwing with my food isn't enough. I can't just have strange cravings, weird combinations and constant eating habits...nooooooooooooooo, now the baby has extended it's tiny little grasp to my brain. Out of nowhere come random songs that get stuck in my head, most of which I haven't heard in decades. We're not going to discuss how many decades have passed, etc. - In case you were hoping...Not gonna happen. 

The first offense was a few weeks ago when the original Winnie the Pooh theme song got stuck in my head. I didn't even know I knew it! It was in there ALLLLLLLLLL day!!! Nothing helped. I had to sleep that one off. Then, yesterday I had the song Baby Baby by Amy Grant trapped in there....Oh sweet Jesus make it stop!!! I was getting desperate while extensive pleas and prayers went unanswered. As though that were not a great enough offense (people, I even tried to get It's a Small World stuck in my head to relieve the horror that was the prior song...no joke) today we have the Cabbage Patch commercial jingle stuck. What the crap?! 

Why does this baby hate me?! I feed it (constantly!), give it vitamins, protect it from harmful chemicals and people...and THIS is the thanks I get in return - rapidly approaching insanity on a whole new level. I've been a little crazy (keep your comments to yourself - you know who you are), but this overshadows that on a scale I've never seen before.

January can't get here fast enough... Ugh...

I used to love to eat...

Oh I remember the days when I'd work long hours on just what I had for breakfast then meet friends out for an amazing dinner of flavor-filled wonders. How I miss those days... Now, my days involve 2 breakfasts, 2 lunches, 2 dinners and a few snacks thrown in for good measure...only because it shuts the baby up. I think I'm reaching a point where Hobbits would be disgusted with me. If I haven't yet, I'm certain it's coming quickly.

My day began with a protein shake, followed by muffins with milk an hour or so later. It's tough for me to eat when I first get up...apparently the baby doesn't get that. Nor does it understand that I actually do have to work, run errands, etc...which means that sometimes food gets delayed. After the muffins, came soup (tomato with ritz crackers filling the bowl til soggy). Then another bowl of soup right before filling in at work for 3 hours this afternoon. I was forced to break into my freeze dried asian pears whilst at work. Once I got home, I downed a V8 and began making dinner. Chickeny, noodley goodness in vast proportions. I'm sitting here knowing that in another hour or so, I will be forced to eat again, then more milk before bed (maybe chocolate) just so I can start again in the morning. Granted, I can't eat a lot at a time, but I find myself making extra so that I don't have to cook so much the next day. It's pitiful and I know it's going to get worse. Instead of eating because I loved to eat and enjoy flavors, textures, and the whole dining experience I find myself consuming whatever will quiet the beast.

This is nuts...Mmmmm...too bad I can't have those. Stupid food allergies and my apparent need to try and keep the baby from having them.

I think that's why you begin to feel the baby move around this time (which I did a few days ago and it was AMAZING!!!!)(once I realized what it was. HA!) so that women are more likely to keep foraging at regular intervals without giving up all hope of a future waistline. Somehow God decides we should be reminded why our waistline is disappearing into that huge "b" shape we'll be sporting for months to come. I figure I'll get kicked in the ribs about the time I think I am "done" with this whole eating 24/7 thing. Yet another reminder that the Mad Scientist owns me, controls me and mocks me. Just wait til you get out... lol