Said by adults:
"You blossomed over the summer."
"Do you have a name picked out?"
"You didn't have the baby over the summer?" ( I really didn't think that I was showing that much in June)
"Have you named the baby?"
"You're going to be out to *here* in November."
"Do you have a name?"
"Your belly has gotten bigger in just one week."
FYI- We don't have a name yet. We've decided that when we do pick a name, we are going to keep it to ourselves until the baby arrives. Everyone knows it's a girl, so we wanted to still have a surprise.
Said by kids:
"Are you growing a baby?"
"Do you know what kind of baby you are having?"
"What does your baby sound like?" -as she puts her head against my stomach.
"How's your baby?" -ever single time she sees me.
"You're gonna have to stay home when you have that baby."
"The Dr. can cut that baby out of your stomach."
People are also saying nice things...they just aren't as fun to post!
I am feeling pretty good. I think it's the combination of going back to work and being in the 3rd trimester that has me feeling more tired and achy. The baby is really moving a lot, which I love. It's reassuring and makes me anxious to meet her!
We have started accumulating baby things (stroller, car seat, cute little clothes...) which is also making it more real that she will be here soon. The nursery furniture should be here in September so we need to get going on dismantling the office. With both of us going back to work, that leaves very little time...especially when somebody is playing kickball and soccer and attending hours long Fantasy Football draft sessions. It will get done though. 70 days to the due date!
2 comments:
what a fun update, beKAH!
don't you hate the fact that when you're pregnant, you suddenly become public property. when i was pregnant with john, i had a coworker who would ask me how much weight i gained after every doctor's appointment--since when is weight gain a topic for public scrutiny? kids are the best though. got to love the things they come up with. when i was pregnant with john, cat's oldest, michael, kept lifting my shirt and saying "come out, baby. come out!"
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