The Waiting Game
Baby #3 is coming just around the corner. I am officially due October 20th, but I would really appreciate if the baby came on October 10th. In this way, the date will be easy to remember, creating more mental capacity for other pursuits. But alas, there is no safe/sane way to control this. The doctor said it is just a waiting game now.I decided to take a glamour shot of the belly. I was never enticed to take maternity pictures because I feel especially grungy during pregnancy, but I thought it might be good to have some sort of photographic evidence.
Photographic Evidence:
About the Belly
I get approached all the time by strangers saying, "You must be having a boy." When I ask them how they know, they reply, "Your belly is low and in front like a basketball." I've looked it up (and so I know everything), and it seems to be a very popular myth. The shape of the belly more has to do with body type/torso length/whether this is the first baby or not/etc. The thing that made the most sense to me was that this being my third baby, my stomach muscles are stretchier and so everything hangs lower. I know, very appealing.I'm glad this pregnancy is almost over. I've been especially cranky this pregnancy, sometimes snapping at my kids and huffing at the hubbie. They've adapted quite nicely, and they know to leave me in a dark room with the door closed. I'm glad Simon is old enough to respect, "the nap." He can play by himself for one hour blocks of time, so it has facilitated a means to continue living.
About the Name
For the longest time, I've wanted to name a boy, "Henry." The boy next door laughed when I told him this, and he said, "When I picture a Henry, I picture a nerd with glasses and a button-up shirt." I said, "Exactly! That's the kind of boy I want." One of my favorite apostles is named Henry B. Eyring, so I liked that this name could produce someone sensitive and intelligent. But A.J. was so insistent on naming this one, "Luke." Luke as in Luke Skywalker or the apostle from the Bible. I felt Luke was too masculine of a name, and it was hard to give Luke a nickname because it was already one syllable and rhymed with puke.We debated over this for several months, refusing to give in, referring to the baby as, "Baby." Finally, I decided it was okay to name him Luke, as long as his middle name was Henry and in the house we could refer to him as, "Hen-Hen." It was a tense compromise, with A.J. cringing every time I referred to the baby as, "Hen-Hen." Even the kids joined in the "Hen-Hen" chorus, until I could see it was mentally chipping away at A.J.'s defenses. Just this last week, A.J. started to say, "Hen-Hen"–whether consciously or not–thus the psychological, passive-aggressive battle was won.
