Be Careful What You Wish For OR I Blame It On the Cousins

Well, I've been contemplating how to go about saying this because I still feel a bit irresponsible.


I had a conversation with my fellow playgroup pal Becca right before she had her baby a few months ago and stated how surprised I was that with all of these new babies being born by friends right now I haven't been getting baby hungry, despite the fact that my "baby" wears size 3 clothing and just turned 19 months old.


In fact, I cringe every time I put both Seth and Eliza's too small clothes away. But, I've had no desire to relive midnight feedings, engorgement, two in diapers again, etc... so I stated that I wish that the next time I get pregnant it's a surprise so I can't blame myself for "planning" all the stress of carrying for three small children.

That wish came true.


I partially blame my fertile cousins, though. Since the last few months, a new baby is being born every month from my dad's side of the family until May, so now the family has July 9th to expect the 44th (or is it 45th?) great-grandchild. The majority of us were pregnant with the last "batch" as well.

Just a bunch of fertile myrtles, I guess!

Chris was absolutely ecstatic when I told him I thought I needed to get a pregnancy test. I thought he'd be a little more on my side of feeling irresponsible for the "oops" but launched right into possible baby names and pride of expanding his posterity. The traitor.


We're 11 weeks along, so we're slowing starting to tell more people, and each time we share the more excited I get. Now everyone knows why my memory's shot, I cry over the simplest things (and pretty much every Christmas movie right now), or didn't use novacaine with my cavity filling, while Chris has been suffering the brunt of the hormones as I yell at him for not taking out the garbage or leaving toothpaste spit in the sink, then begin bawling uncontrollably.

I'm just ready for the morning sickness to wear off since grocery shopping is an absolute nightmare with smells, unless it's something deep-fried. Then the cravings begin, especially for french fries dipped in ranch. Good thing I live in Idaho!