Here are the names (in no particular order) you all suggested that I've added to my "maybe" list:
While I like Benjamin and Max, I would kind of prefer a two-syllable name. I've looked at a list of names for which Max is a nickname and I'm not really a fan of any of them. And the more I ruminate over Max, the less I like it. But I have that problem with every single name.
At first, I don't like a name at all. Then it kind of grows on me. Then I love it. Then I hate it. Two days ago, I was sold on Owen. The next it was Bradley. But now I just kind of feel "meh" about them both. (I still haven't asked my husband what he thinks of them so it could be a lost cause anyway). It's a strange phenomenon that I've never had with my previous boys. Maybe because this is likely my last. No pressure or anything!
Also, I hate being pregnant. So, so much. I hate absolutely everything about it. There is not one single thing I enjoy- except for the fact that it ends. I hate being uncomfortable 24/7. I hate being large and cumbersome. I hate being gawked at like a freak of nature. I hate the unsolicited attention and stupid questions (No, it's my third. No, it's a boy. No, you can't touch my tummy.) I hate not being able to sleep on my tummy. I hate that it takes five minutes to roll over or get out of bed. I hate all the stupid doctor appointments. I hate maternity clothes (with a passion!). I dislike feeling the baby kick. (I like it for the knowledge that he is still alive but other than that, it feels creepy and painful and weird). I hate C-sections. I hate giving blood. I hate feeling like my bones are being kicked and constantly rubbed up against.
Nearly 30 weeks. I already feel like my frame cannot withstand the mass of bones poking and rolling around inside. My poor baby must be so smooshed!
UGH! Make it end! And you guys, I'm only 29 weeks (almost 30). I still have over 9 weeks to go. Imagine how horrible I will feel by THEN. For the record, as much as I hate being pregnant, I'm a pretty damn good sport. I rarely complain. After work, after kids are picked up, after dinner is made, after kids are in bed, after dishes are done, I go straight for my bed and just lay there. I do my shit then check out for the rest of the night. As hard as it is to be a working mom, it's like uber hard to be a working, pregnant mom.
Lately, I've had this horrible pain on the side of my tummy. It feels like muscle tissue slowly being ripped apart. I had it with my second baby and it's returned this time around in the exact same spot with more intensity. It's not just painful, it's nearly excruciating. It starts a couple hours into my morning and continues all day long. Every time I stand, roll over, touch it, rest something on it, laugh, cough, or run, I can feel the muscles tearing apart. Basically, it hurts until I lay down and take any weight/pressure off my belly. I've never met anyone else who has had this pain. I'm beginning to think I'm defective.
All the horribles aside, I am so excited to meet this baby. I feel like it's taken until baby number three to fully comprehend just what it means to make a person. Watching my two older boys grow from babies into wonderful unique people and recognizing just how fully and deeply I am enamored with them, I can finally appreciate to the fullest extent just how amazing it is to make a person. I'm so excited to meet this baby and to add another person to our family. Moreso than I ever was with my other two kids. I think this may have something to do with being less worried anxious about medical procedures and actually having a baby and more focused on the actual baby himself.
In this regard, I can't wait for October to get here. I'm obsessively checking my calendar to see just how much closer I am to October and checking and rechecking my countdown app and figuring out all the different countdown configurations- how many days, how many weeks, how many doctor appointments, how many paychecks, until baby gets here. I don't think I've ever been this excited for anything in my life.
But I'm stuck in a weird dichotomy. As much as I can't wait for pregnancy to end and my baby to get here, I look at my other children and just BEG time to slow down. Jacob will start kindergarten in a matter of weeks and those precious, pre-school years with him will be over for good. Ryan is just the king of my heart and I hate to see him grow out of whatever toddler-hood he still has and transform into a big kid like his brother.
Drinking pool water from his shoe.
I want to freeze my kids just how they are so I can always remember how sweet and crazy and hectic they are. Ryan loves to give me kisses. He will randomly start kissing me everywhere, but he always announces where he will kiss me first. "I kiss your ear." Kiss. "I kiss your hair." Kiss. "I kiss your hand." Kiss.....etc. After each kiss, he makes eye contact and giggles at his little game. I love being showered with his love.
Every night, Ryan wakes up in the middle of the night and comes into our room. I let him sleep on the floor next to my bed. He has a permanent little nest set up there. He will frequently wake up at random times in the night and ask to hold my hand. It's so freaking sweet and I almost don't mind the numbness and loss of circulation as my arm twists into all kinds of contortions in order to reach his soft, little hand.
Sleeping like a baby.
For all the things he does that totally drive me nuts, he is perfect. And I don't want him to change. My heart breaks with each passing day because I know he is one day closer to big-boyhood. Not that I should be too sad because as Jacob has shown me, big-boyhood is pretty awesome. Watching Jacob learn to spell and sound out words and count to a hundred and ride a two-wheeler and build Legos sets exactly according to the instructions and add numbers, has been amazing. These are all little accomplishments in the grand scheme of things, but watching your kid master a new task, no matter how small, is nothing short of amazing.
Jacob's so caring and sympathetic. I see him genuinely care for other people and act on those feelings. The other day he was playing the board game Sorry with my mom and her friend. They had gone through several rounds without anyone scoring a 1 or a 2 to get out of "home base." When Jacob finally got a 1 card, he kindly offered it to my mom's friend because he saw that she had been getting frustrated.
I'm so thankful he has developed these characteristics. I feel like awareness/caring for others and their feelings is something you can't really learn when you are an adult. I'm just so dang proud of him and I hope I adequately show him that in the hectic hustle and bustle of each day.