Cheated

Week 9, Day 2. As I’ve said, don’t expect me to have much to write about other than kids and pregnancy.

 

Speaking of them, they’re good. Mia is, still, of course, a wild woman, on her trike or jumping from the highest surface she can reach at any given point in time during the day. She’ll need a new bed soon–she keeps falling out of the little one Caleb made her last year–it’s about floor level so she’s never gotten hurt, thank goodness, but all the same. Time  to upgrade. Cheyenne’s fine. She’s joined the BOOK CLUB at school. I was a little disappointed (though I didn’t let on) she didn’t choose something outside her comfort zone–just more quiet, indoor book-reading, but the fact she’s in an actual club makes me think well, at least she’s not completely anti-social. She’s just a thoughtful, quiet kid. She hasn’t had many more problems as far as the lunchtime loneliness goes, or she hasn’t said anything to me, but usually I can tell when she’s bummed (vs. her normal self–it would be hard for an outsider to see the difference). It’s going on 2 weeks since she called her dad and reminded him to send the i-pod attatchment. She still hasn’t gotten it nor has she heard from him. Surprise surprise.

 

I had my first official appointment last week, Caleb and Mia in tow. Unfortunately I did not get to see an actual doctor. Instead, Nurse Tammy asked me questions for an hour and had me pee in a cup not once, but TWICE. I was then sent to another part of the hospital where a space cadet lab technician painfully took 50 vials of my blood. I think I finally got them all to believe that I was indeed pregnant by the time I left.

 

I’m am just sure I will see an actual doctor at my next appointment. It will all go great as long as they don’t jack with my due date. I don’t care that my doctor will make me strip naked and then stick her arm up my hoo-hah. I don’t care that they might bust out the dildo-cam, or that I’ll probably have to pee in several more cups, or that the staff will put me on a scale and judge me by how much I weigh as if they were entering me in the state fair. None of that bothers me so much as the possibility of a due date setback. May 20. Leave it alone.

 

Unlike my other 2, I cannot pinpoint the exact moment of conception with this one. I guess when you’re trying your darndest NOT to get pregnant, you tend to commit any "slip-ups" to memory–and even in those instances the doctors did not agree with my calculations. This one…I can’t really be sure if it was one weekend or the maybe the other. Could it have been the middle of the week? Was it on the closet floor or upside-down in the shower? Might this child have been concieved in an actual bed? Was it the night we were drinking pina coladas like they were going out of style or could we have been completely sober (doubtful)? I DON’T KNOW. They can’t move me back. Not even by a week. I will refuse. Is that an option?

 

That’s really the only major worry I have. I don’t sleep very well–maybe it’s the vitamins that I must take later in the day since taking them in the morning makes me feel gross. Last night I tossed and turned and tossed and listened to Caleb snore…and a feeling struck me–I KNOW WHAT THE BABY IS. I know what it is. I know it so much that I feel like I’ve been cheated out of my surprise. I feel so confident in this feeling that if I shared it with anyone, I would be giving away the secret. I feel it in my heart–the baby must have reached its telepathic stage and I am so sure of what we’re having that I’d go out right now and buy a ton of clearance (read: non-returnable) baby stuff…I just know what I’m having. I knew it with Mia and Cheyenne long before I officially found out, and I can tell with this one, too. I poked Caleb after I had my epiphany.

 

 ME: "Pssst…Caleb. Are you awake?"

HIM: "Hmmm? Huh?"

 ME: "Pssst…Caleb. I know what we’re having. Do you want to know? Because I know."

HIM: "Hmmm."

 ME: "I just know we’re having a _____."

HIM: "Oh. Hmmm."

 ME: "Caleb. Caleb? Are you happy?"

HIM: "Hmmm. Intuition."

 ME: "Caleb?"

 

I though he hadn’t heard me, but this morning he said, "So. Explain this whole intuition thing–how are you so sure?"

 

I need to start taking bets.