Hey-Ho Webbies,

I am now one day shy of my 33rd week of pregnancy, and most of the time I still can’t believe it. I mean 13 months of trying and a PCOS diagnosis had geared me up for a long fertility war, then first cycle on Clomid and Bamm!  bouncing baby boy comin’ our way. Oh, had I forgotten to tell you that Webbies? It’s most definitely a boy, 4 ultrasound techs better not be wrong with all the blue I’m buyin’. And wowzer with the buying. I live far from family and my friends here are all male, so no shower of gifts upon me, although The Mom did get us a rocker/ottoman combo and a diaper bag filled with baby wipes and butt paste and stuff. Everything else though is being bought and paid for by ‘Da Fox and I. Babies are pretty expensive creatures I have found out. Not that I’m complaining too much though. I do so love spending money. I keep getting cute things in the mail that I ordered. It’s like every other day is Christmas.

We are of course preparing for the kitlet in more mental ways too. Taking the childbirth prep course, reading up on breastfeeding, and totally freaking out at the thought of a 4 year old trying to slide down the banister in our house. That last ones not really true, I only had a minor freak out. In fact I’ve been remarkably calm most of the pregnancy. I worry a lot, but I don’t really have hysterics. I worry about him being a geek, or being a jock. I worry about his relationship with his grandparents, or lack there of. I worry about him finding his passion in life and I worry about turning him neurotic. I suppose most of these are normal, but they are still there. And these don’t even count the stupid worries like: How will he and the cat get along? How old will he be when he falls into the creek by our house? (Because I know at some point he’s going to.) How can he learn to ride a bike on the hill we live on? How in the heck am I going to be able to push him out?!? You know stupid stuff like that.

I worry about the last one because we have been told to expect a 9 to 10 pounder. I believe the first doctor exact words were “He’s Humongous.” And my normal OB said we were “Doomed”. My ob made that observation because I was 9lbs 3ozs at birth and ‘Da Fox was over 11lbs. Still not encouraging. At this weeks appointment she said she hoped he would come early, and if he’s on track to be 10lbs I’m not arguing with her too much. We’re in wait and see mode currently, so we’ll… well you know. Oh and for those of you wondering, nope, no gestational diabetes, I’m just growing him big. That’s about it for now. I’ll try to write more later.

Keep Surfing Webbies and may all your Imaginings be Fertile!

— Stara