I do regret to inform you that my former blog was MERELY wishful thinking. When I went to my little GYNO apt I soon discovered that I am only FIVE weeks pregnant- NOT TWO MONTHS. SOOOOO- all my theories about nausea surpassing me because I’m nursing- FLOP. The BABY BUMP- more like bump of bloat. And the due date “sneaking up on me”? Five weeks? So instead of NOVEMBER, we’re looking at January.. January might as well be fifteen years away. All the energy I thought I had is GONE… migrated with the mythical first trimester… and in its place? A drained, STILL bloated bump, mood swingy, hot flashing, dizzy, nauseous crazy person wondering WHY!!! Why couldn’t I have just been almost through with my first trimester? What was wrong with THAT plan? On the good side, Brighton will be two months OLDER when he becomes a big brother. And that is certainly a plus. Perhaps we’ll have him trained to come when we call instead of run as fast as he can in the opposite direction. Or maybe we’ll get a leash. And maybe he’ll have stopped throwing treasures into the toilet and digging garbage out of the trash. As I type, Brighton is beating a sleeping Brooklyn in the head with a bag of bread that he took out of the trash yelling something that sounds German/Arabic. AND I found a spoon in one toilet and a sippy cup in the other. I have a feeling we are going to have serious issues once I’m running to the john to puke every three minutes. Things could get pretty messy. But to leave on a happy note… I finally remembered to shave BOTH legs.

Okay. Normally I wouldn’t have just POSTED a pregnancy on Facebook so nonchalantly. (Of course, normally I’m not having an unexpected THIRD baby while trying to foster care. While my second baby isn’t even a YEAR old!) BUT the REASON I just chunked it on up there into everyone’s radar is because I started showing before I knew I was even prego and a girdle and sit ups didn’t put a dent on the bump. So, when I found out I can quit exercising and resume my two chocolate shakes, tube of cookie dough, and bag of chips diet, oh- and lose the useless girdle- I wanted the owners of the STARES to know they were seeing a baby bump. Not a tumor. Or tire. Or any other cute pet name people have for their flab. So vanity robs a perfectly good shock-blog. Sorry. That being said- it still doesn’t seem real. The big BUMP does… the “baby inside the bump” does not. And I’m not puking up my guts- knock on wood- like the last two go rounds- so maybe THAT’s part of the reason I don’t feel much different. Which- I’d rather the baby’s due date sneak up on me than watch the hours drag on daily while I cling to the toilet thinking I’m going to die. The only negative to finding out later than normal is I missed out on two perfectly good months of using the pregnancy card on Starling. But that’s alright. I’m making up for it now. I already know the doctor will tell me to stop breast feeding, which I plan to do just as soon as Brighton turns one… and quits throwing a tantrum to nurse…. UNLESS this theory I have might have some substance. The only thing I am doing different in this pregnancy than the other two pregnancies is NURSING. So what if THAT is the x-factor making me NOT puke up my guts?? AND quite FRANKLY, if it IS the reason the toilet and I are still on speaking terms and I haven’t thrown out all Scentsy and Glades and I can still do my dishes without hurling… I will delightfully let Brighton continue to rip me apart until after my second trimester. I don’t even care that I’m light headed and blacking out randomly. I will gleefully hug a wall over a toilet. All we lack to getting our foster child is turning in our tb scans which we get read this week and getting my CPR certification which I am doing on the 8th of this month. THEN we are going to be DONE with the paper work and can get a kid! Yes. I am terrified. Yes, I was mind blown to discover I was pregnant again. Yes. I did a LOT of praying and I still feel like we should foster care. So onward march! I’m freaking out. Just a little bit. Starling was actually relieved. But maybe that’s because of the way I put it to him. I told him that we had to talk. Of course that immediately filled him with dread. No good thing ever follows that phrase. I couldn’t come up with an alternative intro. I lack creativity. I couldn’t just come out and say it, one because I wasn’t sure how to say it and two because I wasn’t convinced that the extra line on the prego test was even dark enough to count. I wanted Starling to look at it and call it one way or the other. But he was in front of people all day. I kept trying to get him AWAY from people and instead of taking the HINT, he invited one of his workers to DINNER with us. And just as I was beginning to think he’d ask the guy to stay the night, the dude finally left our house. But then there were the kids bouncing around like a couple of pin balls and Starling rallying them up to pull an all-nighter. Finally, Starling told me to talk. This never happens. Normally he would welcome the lack of me talking. But I guess the wringing hands and the pacing and the eyes round as UFO’s gave him a bit of panic. So I told him, “Well… I need your advice.. well… we are already doing it because it’s not like I can back out… the deposits been made, in other words…” I realized I was butchering my unplanned speech and simultaneously realized Starling’s eyebrows were touching his hair line. “How much of a deposit?” I looked at him, “What? Just let me finish….” “How much money did you deposit on this “thing” you’ve committed to?” Ugh. He wasn’t supposed to interrupt. And Brooklyn and Brighton were splashing me and squealing at the top of their lungs in the tub. So I had to regroup. “I can’t talk about it right now. We’ll talk when the kids are done bathing.” Oh. But suddenly he really wanted to talk. I left the preg test on top of the toilet paper and decided it would be easier for Starling to just find the test. But of course he never did. So I laid on the bed, exhausted, and said, “Hand me the toilet paper.” He dumped off the test and through the paper at me. SLOW!! “What did your friends talk you into NOW, Wendi?” Ha. My friends. Talk me into… like buying smell goods or oils or digital scrapbooking or craft material… “This is a little bigger than those other things… and my friends had nothing to do with it, by the way…” He FINALLY saw what he had tossed aside. “Your pregnant!” he piped merrily. “Now how much did you deposit?” “I- never mind. The news is I’m pregnant. YOU made the deposit, DEAR.” He sighed, “Whew… that’s a relief. You had me worried for a minute.” I could have smacked him in the head with a frozen chicken. A baby was less of a worry than some random deposit I hypothetically made on some whimsical new hobby I took up? I just blinked at him dumbly not even capable of forming a coherent thought. “Well, this is great right! A little earlier than planned. Man, three kids!” I stared at the moving ceiling fan for some sort of validation. “He’s crazy, right? Shouldn’t he be spazzing or something?” The fan didn’t answer but I know it agreed with me. And the reaction from other people? Geez. I told Brooklyn before anyone. Right after I shook the pee off the stick and saw the faint second line… “Brooklyn… I think… I have a baby in my tummy…” She cocked her two year old head and said, “Um… no you don’t. Brighton came out, remember? He’s just on your night-night sleeping.” I looked at her glumly. “No. I mean I think there is ANOTHER baby in my tummy.” She grabbed my arm and to reassure me DRUG me to my bed room. “Look. There he is. He’s just sleeping.” So I gave up. I had to wait the WHOLE day to tell Starling, which really almost did me in. I can NOT keep a secret about myself. That is why I have NO secrets about myself. And then I told Brooklyn to tell my parents her surprise in the presence of my aunt and uncle and cousins. She said enthusiastically and obviously oblivious to the meaning, “My mommy has a baby in my tummy!” They all laughed. Then realized she had been set up to say that. With the first kid- total excitement. With the second- at least put on joy. This time? My cousin in law said, “You still haven’t figured out what’s causing that?” Yeah. Number three. Welcome to the world where more than two kids is child gluttony. I can’t wait to see the glares when I’m walking around pregnant with my two kids and foster kid/s. Oh well. We want to birth FIVE and adopt so I guess I should get used to the judgementalists. All before the age of 30. On my part, obviously since Starling just REACHED the big 3-0 in March. I have the feeling my doctor is going to say, “I TOLD you SO,” on me not getting that 5 year ring that they put in your hu-ha. But I’m not getting it AGAIN. So. Yeah. Judge away. But we WILL practice OTHER methods of birth control. Like… abstinence! Of course, Starling would rather just have a fourth child.