I am. Or, to be politically correct, we are.
That's right, sports fans, we're switching to zone defense. Little Hickman #3 will be joining us around - or hopefully before - the end of April.
Which should explain an entire month of no blog posts in September and October, when any free moment I had was spent lying down, and the idea of sitting in front of the computer forming rational thoughts was abhorrent. The last two months are pretty much a blur of survival, fatigue, nausea, seltzer, and Blow-Pops but since I know so many others that have had it worse, that's all I'll say about that. Except that I've been going to bed early and only re-reading favorite books - I just can't spare the focus required to follow something new.
But crossing into the second trimester has cleared my mind a bit. Enough to enjoy food smells again - sometimes -, to think about the nursery and to start a baby registry on Amazon. You'd think by a third baby a family would have all they need. But you would be wrong, very wrong.
Around New Year's we can find out what kind of kiddo we've got in there. No question - I want to know what I'm dealing with, and do as much planning and preparing as possible before the little bundle of screaming disoriented nerves arrives, and the work starts all over again. Besides, finding out at the end if the ultrasound was actually correct is almost as surprising as not having one.
It's also never too early to think about names. If you know me well, you know that I consider naming one of the main reasons to have kids in the first place. If it's a girl, she's all set. I've got a couple of great ones that have been waiting in the wings for just the right time. If it's a boy, he's also all set. The Boy List has been whittled and honed with each pregnancy, and any of the top three or four contenders would make a boy - and his Mom - proud.
In the meantime, for the next few months it shall be known as...Superfly. I heard it in a song on the radio one night when I was having profound thoughts about the baby. I knew it would never pass a committee vote as an actual name, but gestational nicknames don't even go to vote, so it's set.
We told the girls the other morning and they already have their own ideas about names, needs, and how they will "help." I will have to do another post on the girls' names; they're awesome in a cute-but-we-would-never-actually-use-them way. Hazel has decided her job will be to hold the baby as much as possible, and Ginger would like to tickle it and put the bath toys in.
You can probably expect several pregnancy and baby related posts in the upcoming months; I've got a few composing themselves in the old noggin, but I promise not to obsess. Lots of other stuff going on, too, to write about. I just wanted to officially announce. And although I know as well or better than anyone how hard, uncomfortable, exhausting, inconvenient, and sometimes embarrassing pregnancy, birth and new babies can be, I am deeply thrilled in a way that is impossible to explain, to have another one. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.