20 / 20

It feels like 10 minutes ago that we were packing up the house in England and preparing for a whole new life in Canada.  Only at that time we didn’t realise that a whole new life included a whole new life.

Then we went for that first ultrasound where we lost a month in our lives in the matter of 20 minutes.  Not in the way we lost something in that ultrasound back in June, but in a good way.  Or at least once we digested it, it was a good way.   When we – or at least I – realised that an arrival at the beginning of April was better than one in May because it meant that we were one month closer to me getting past that 6 month barrier where I go from totally freaking insane to borderline insane with a splash of normal.  And let’s be honest, my household cannot handle my complete crazy for too long.

So it sank in that we were having an April Fool and when it’s in a different year, it feels a safe distance away.  Like you have all the time in the world to prepare for the upheaval that a baby brings.  And you pretend it is not November because that means it is almost December which means it is almost next year.  But guess what?  Not only is it November, it is the second half of November and just like that we go from no baby on the way to half baked.

That’s right.  We’re on the 50 yard line!  It’s no longer a count up, but countdown.  20 weeks down and 20 weeks to go.  That’s it.  Except my mother believes that this is a boy and that he will follow in Noah’s footsteps of being late.  I agree with her on the boy, but I would like to hope she is wrong on the late bit.  I’ll allow a few days either side of the date, but I’m not down with over a week.  Not when I make babies the size of large watermelons.

And although they say this baby isn’t huge, which they said about Amy *ahem*, the feet speak otherwise.

Big Foot

So yeah, let’s keep growing bigger and stronger.  But concentrate more on the stronger, okay?  I’m still trying to master sneezing without peeing my pants over here.



You go ahead and think that over.  If you agree to my terms, I promise not to name you “Roswell”.

November Remember Baby 043

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