a boy of our own

wanna see what my baby looks like inside my uterus?

I thought so.



In this photo, my sweet boy looks like Skeletor.  See the creepy eye socket and the pronounced whiteness of his bones? Terrifying and endearing all at once.

Here, he is only mildly creepy. Apparently chubby cheeks will help him look less skeletonish.

And here, he's a zombie. He's the cutest,sweetest, smartest zombie, but a zombie nonetheless.

Wanna see what he looks like from the top? There ya go. His little hands are on the right.  He really liked them up by his face.  

And here are his feet. His tiny, sweet, unzombie, unskeleton feet.  I can't wait to kiss those tiny toes. 

Also, my baby has shins.  Isn't it cool that he has shins? I love his shins. 

I am debating as to whether or not I should put the pic proving that he is a boy on here.  Part of me wants you to see how he literally flashed us, but another part of me doesn't want my baby's boy parts on the internet. Even if they are darling. 

In 16 years when he is reading this he will hate me for calling his manhood darling. I'm sorry, sweetheart. But it really, really is. 

and that's all she wrote

NOTES:

• my pregnant butt is huge
• my pregnant hair is thick and shiny
• my pregnant brain has yet to comprehend that I am a graduate. 

blest be the first sweet pain

excerpt from sonnet 61

francesco petrarch

And blest be the first sweet pain, the first most dear,

Which burnt my heart when Love came in as guest;

And blest the bow, the shafts which took my breast, 

And even the wounds which Love delivered there.

aaaaaand in italian, because it is beautiful in that language too. 

et benedetto il primo dolce affanno

ch'i' ebbi ad esser con Amor congiunto,

et l'arco, et le saette ond'i' fui punto,

et le piaghe che 'nfin al cor mi vanno.

it is absolutely lovely to think of poems that I have long loved for their romantic feeling and then 

find that they apply so beautifully to how I feel about this baby.  even though this poem comes from

a poet who had a few illegitimate children, and even though it was written for a woman he

stalked and idolized, the words fit. 

here's the thing, baby.

I am so glad you are coming.  You already rock my world like Elvis rocked the 50's (okay. And 60's. And the 2012's. But whatever.)


I think you a fandamntastic. 



And the coolest/craziest/most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to me (diet coke float included. Which is a big deal because hello diet coke plus ice cream? That will cure cancer, I believe.)




BUT. Your avocado sized body has got to give my already tender bladder* a break.  I'm serious.  I know you are all growish in there, but perhaps you could grow toward something that doesn't require me to run to the bathroom every 45 minutes? Something like my liver. Or gallbladder. Or even my stomach.  Just lay off the bladder.


Unless of course smooshing my bladder will help you develop better, in which case, I can deal.



Will you have ticklish feet like your momma? Or will you have your dad's piercing blue eyes of an ice dragon?**  




*remember the bladder infections of '10? All 8 of them? Yeah. It's a sensitive organ.
** you immediately become my best friend and/or spouse if you know this quote.