Thankful!

This Thanksgiving, we had one more little thing to be thankful for.

"Was this an accident?" my blunt little sister asked me ten minutes after I had taken the pregnancy test and called her on the phone.  I called her first because we had just been talking; she had been asking me about stage two and stage three foods for her little peanut while I had been staring at the tests in the drugstore and contemplating just skipping the whole thing in favor of going to the dollar store the next day and buying one there.  Eight dollars for a pregnancy test?  Fifteen dollars for two?  Why would I pay this much when I can already feel the results in the pit of my stomach and the side of my boob?  Sure, the dollar store tests are a little more labor intensive- you have to find a cup to pee in and a little pipette to dispense the urine onto the test strip portion of the flimsy device- but the extra work is definitely worth the seven dollar savings.  Ah, screw it.  I'll just buy the eight dollar test and not eat lunch today.  And I just need one.

"Not exactly an accident," I answered honestly.  "Not exactly on purpose."

My sister was blown away by this news, and when she pressed her husband to guess who was pregnant, my name didn't even come up on his list.  When she finally told him it was me, he would later liken his reaction to finding out George on Seinfeld was getting married.

Jerry: All right. But then I can't tell you the BIG news.

Elaine: News? What news?

Jerry: Sorry!

Elaine: What? What?

Jerry: All right, Elaine but this is beyond news. This is like Pearl Harbor. Or the Kennedy assassination. It's like not even news. It's total shock.

Elaine: Oh, come on, Jerry:. Please, please, please, please, please!

Jerry: George Costanza...

Elaine: Yeah?

Jerry: Is getting married!

Elaine: Get out!

Really?  Is it that unlikely that Chris and I would have a third child?  Are the two we have THAT horrible that people would find it inconceivable that we'd go for another?  Or is it that I'm just so very old, so very tired, so worn down and jaded by motherhood that a new baby just doesn't add up?  Or did it really seem to others like our family was perfectly complete even though I've had this strange little aching feeling that it was mostly complete... but maybe not just quite.

Oh, and the minor detail of Chris' reaction?  "That's interesting," he said on the phone (I'm still in the bathroom at work, still staring at my eight dollar positive, still thinking about that dollar store test and how now I could REALLY USE THAT EXTRA SEVEN DOLLARS SINCE I'M HAVING ANOTHER BABY AND WILL BE BROKE FOREVER.  "Can we talk about this later?  I'm at Home Depot with my dad."

"Will do! Chat later!"

When I told Andy the news six weeks later, he was so excited that he got up in his chair and did a little dance.  "I want twins!" he exclaimed.  "A boy and a girl!"  (Alex's reaction was less jubilant and the phrase "no baby" came out of his mouth about a dozen times until last week or so when he finally started professing love for it.)

"It's probably not twins," I told Andy, thinking of the difficult decisions involved with having twins. Which one do you keep?  Which one do you give half of a medallion to and send on his or her way? I continued, "It's probably just one.  So, are you going to be a big helper?  Feed the baby bottles and help hold it?"

"Yeah," Andy replied, looking me dead in the eyes.  "I'll hold the baby.  I'll hold BOTH OF THEM."

We're, of course, excited for the baby, the one baby I have growing.  Sure, I've had moments of sheer panic, such as in the morning when I'm really struggling to get only TWO children dressed, fed, and out the door.  Getting Andy and Alex ready for preschool is a freaking nightmare.  Nobody listens to me, and Andy treats brushing his teeth and using the potty like it's a once in a lifetime event to be cherished.  And Alex. Watching Alex slowly eat his breakfast is the most infuriating spectacle I've ever born witness to.  I've never seen any single person eat as slowly as this kid does.  I've spent mornings just glaring at the poor kid while my blood pressure's inched slowly up into the danger zone, my eyes burning holes into his oblivious little face while he leisurely lifts the bagel to his mouth and takes just the tiniest, daintiest little nibble before slowly setting the bagel back down and chewing while seemingly counting to a hundred before lazily swallowing and starting the whole process all over again.  I've never wanted to cram bread into someone's face like I have with Alex.  There.  I said it.

But yesterday.  Yesterday, Chris and the boys took me to urgent care as I had a little bleeding. It was a Saturday, and my doctor's office was closed, and I was in a bit of a panic.  In my heart of hearts, I think I knew the baby was okay, but I went to what was likely a six hundred dollar post-insurance ER visit just to make sure, and that whole ride there I found myself realizing just how much I wanted this baby.  Even more than I already knew I did, and that's quite a bit.

Everything was fine, baby was great.  Apparently, there was a small tear in my uterus which is supposedly totally fine. I mean, that SOUNDS totally fine, right? I had an ultrasound, and the baby lifted his or her little hand up while I watched, spreading his/her tiny, perfect fingers and giving me a virtual high five.  What's up, Mom? Got a little rip in here.  Sorry about that, my bad.  See you at the end of May.  High five.

Is it really that incredible that I'd have another baby?  That unbelievable?  Well, it is pretty incredible. So far, the experience is surreal, and he/she isn't even here yet.  Just seeing that baby at my first ultrasound past ten weeks was, yes, quite unbelievable.  I didn't think I'd ever see a third child on an ultrasound screen.  When pregnant with Alex, I thought for sure that this was it- done after two.  But here we all are.

And I'm oh so thankful.