I mentioned in twitter that I start to speak more “Canadian” when I am home. Once upon a time I didn’t think we had an accent, but the longer I live away (and the more my husband snickers at me) the more I do hear it. My family speaks with a much more clipped, precise pronunciation than I am used to in MA. (And before you ask – no, we do not live near Boston, so I am talking about the typical north-east accent, not the highly foreign Boston accent!) It makes me smile to hear everyone talk “normally.”

Realize and paralyze are spelled with Z, not S.

And it’s ZED, not ZEE.

Travelled has two Ls. Which I didn’t realize is actually Canadian – I have been getting confused for the last 5 years because my spell-checkers keep correcting me, but I KNEW it looked right to me!

Words like mobile, fragile are pronounced MO-bile, not MO-ble. (The “i” sound is very present.)

Vase sounds like “vayse,” not “vahs.”

Again and Against sound like “gain,” not “gen.”

Decal is prounced “Deckle,” not “DEE-cal.” (Say this one out loud to an American and they have NO IDEA what you are talking about.)

We call it Grade One, Grade Two. (Not First Grade, etc.)

We commonly call it a chesterfield, as well as a couch.

Washroom is the formal term for a bathroom. (I said this once in a public place in MA when I was searching, and the woman said, “A what??”)

My winter hat is a touque.

… And I could go on. I just like to sit and listen to people talk, it makes me smile!

As a very astute reader noted, I am now down to double-digits: less than 100 days until my due date. For some reason this doesn’t feel too significant to me, but it did make me say, “Wow.”

But next week, next week is the big one: next week starts my third trimester. And that blows me away. Yes, actually this has been going by quickly for me. After 14 weeks when I started being able to enjoy it rather than just fret about everything – and especially once she started moving consistently – suddenly this pregnancy is moving smoothly from week to week and I’m not quite sure how I’ve gotten here.

Second trimester has been kind to me. Yes, the damn heartburn (again, a bad bad name: I have no issues in my chest, just a gross burning in my throat), but honestly that’s more of an irritation than anything; I feel it frequently, and once in a while it’ll keep me awake, but it’s not really impeding anything. The leg cramps are certainly painful, but I’ve learned ways to manage them, prevent them, and this past week have been for the most part cramp-free. But the rest? The rest is great. I feel good. I feel less achy now than I did in the beginning of this pregnancy. My hips don’t hurt. I only waddle when she’s on my bladder. I haven’t gained much weight. My boobs are full without being huge, and aren’t tender or painful. I have an adorable baby belly. It’s like I have enough symptoms and discomforts to feel definitely pregnant, but without anything really being a problem. It’s a lovely place to be, this second trimester.

I know it’s going to get harder from here on out… emotionally as well as physically. Right now I’m just riding in a very comfortable space, but am aware the the anxiety can come back at any time. Plus I know things are going to get harder on my body as I get closer to my due date. But it’s all good. I’ll just enjoy this part while I can.

We were in a store looking at Olympics gear memorabilia. Den spotted the rack of Canada baby onesies. “This is cute!” he said. “I’m surprized you haven’t already bought one!”

I looked over at the rack and pointed to the size tag. The smallest things were 18M. “She wouldn’t fit into them for like two years.” We both stopped at the rack holding miniature-sized Canada hockey jerseys to match the one I had already bought for Denis. It was in size 24M. “Now if Devin were here, I’d totally get it, this would fit him.”

There was that moment of silence between us – only a split-second, but there. I really can’t picture Devin older, fitting into a toddler jersey. But at the same time there’s a shadow that follows us around. In that moment we both saw it.

Tomorrow is my 4D ultrasound. We decided to spend a bit to get it done this time, even though with Devin we skipped it because we’d “see him soon enough.” My doctor’s office does have 3D capability, but only as “snapshots” (and so far that was not at all a success) – this time it’s the real deal, full 3D video. And the ultrasound is not at all a medical one, so we don’t have to worry about measurements and growth and why are they looking at that again? I’ll be so happy to just lay back and watch her.

To prepare I have been trying to drink some extra water today, like they suggested (for a clearer picture, they said). But my biggest concern is simply making sure she’s kicking so that I know that she’s alive when I walk in there. I guess that kind of sets me apart from the “normal” pregnant women.

I’m also a little nervous about her being in the right position, given that we’re spending money on this and can’t do a re-do later (we are on vacation). Please be face-up and waving, baby girl. We want to see your face!

I feel like I should be more thrilled with the ultrasound, but the anxiety I had going into it dialed me way back to start with. And it wasn’t the what if something’s wrong with her beyond the subconscious anxiety I get every time, but worrying about if it would be worth the money, worrying about my mother-in-law having problems accessing the web feed, worrying about the baby being in the wrong position. I don’t know, it just feels like when I anticipate something big I end up an emotional mess rather than just enjoying it.

True to form, our little girl was obstinate and buried. So most of the time was spent with the tech working hard to try to get any kind of half-decent picture of her. There was a lot of blurry placenta fuzz – which she had her face and hands snuggled up to. She was awake and moving, just not moving away from that position. The tech did say she tends to see a lot more anterior placentas, and it does typically make getting pictures harder. I ended up laying on my left side, which I’m sure made things fun for the tech (who was on my right side, reaching over), but it did actually shift things enough to get some pictures. It was disappointing, in a lot of ways, because I wanted to see… more. More than a lot of fuzz and some peekaboo pictures.

I think the biggest part of this experience wasn’t just getting a couple of pictures of the baby, but the inclusion of the grandparents. My parents attended the session and watched on the big screen TV, and Den’s mom logged in to the live webcast they provided for family members. None of them have actually seen a live ultrasound before, they’ve only seen the 2D pictures that we show them after the fact. I know they all really appreciated getting the chance to experience this with us. This baby is celebrated by her entire extended family and is just so anxiously awaited.

But there she was on screen, obstinate or not, wiggling her fingers and kicking her feet. Our little girl, our baby. I did get misty eyes watching. When we got home I sat and stared at the best picture we have of her. I love it. The more I look at it, the more I love the picture. I can’t wait to meet her and see her little face in person.

Here’s a couple of the pictures… I’ll post these and some more on the ultrasound page (but not all of them, because most of them are fuzzy!). We do have a DVD of the video, but I don’t have access to any editing software right now so I’ll have to work on that later.

I just loaded in the DVD of the ultrasound to watch to myself, and I started giggling and smiling. I think one of my favorite parts of the video isn’t even the 3D section, but getting to have a permanent record of a 2D ultrasound in video! I just love watching them scan through her body, watching her wiggle and kick and move. I can read 2D better than 3D anyways, I think. Don’t get me wrong, I do love having the 3D pictures! But to me the snapshots in 3D would have been enough, but I could sit and watch her in black and white all day long. It is amazing.

I think during the actual ultrasound I was still wound pretty tight and didn’t really get to relax and enjoy it as much as I would have liked. In a way it’s like watching a race in the olympics; I find I enjoy it more the second time after I know what the result was, the first time I’m too anxious about what is going to happen. So to me this is really cool. I wonder if Den will think the same.

::

I was asked about names – I’m surprized no one has asked before this. :) The thing is, we have two perfect girls names picked out. We love them both and if we have another girl someday we will use the second one. We had only one boy name picked out, so if this had turned out to be a boy it was set in stone. Alas with a girl it is not so certain. The girls names are Katherine Elizabeth and Cailet Amber. We love both for different reasons. We are leaning more towards Katherine, and even started calling her that, but then as this girl’s personality comes out I started feeling a lot of anxiety and wondering if maybe it’s not the right name – she seems so spunky. So I’m frozen. I’m waiting for something to jump out at me and make one feel completely right, but unfortunately that may not happen until she’s born. So until I figure it out she’s just baby girl. It’s driving me crazy, too. I hate not having a name.

::

I carefully put together a sig today – a small scrapbook-style graphic to be used on one of my forums. In it I used my favorite of baby girl’s 3D pictures and I also put Devin’s in there, too, since he is always included in some way. After I finished, when I stopped looking at it in terms of color matching and balanced design, when I really looked at it and took it in, I realized: baby girl looks so much like Devin. Same nose. I’ve thought about what she will look like – hell, I’ve thought about what he would look like. And suddenly there she is, her fuzzy little 3D womb picture, pointing out in startling clarity how much my children look alike, at least from their first photo.

I can’t wait to meet her on the outside, to take real pictures, to take in her eyes and nose and mouth… and to get a glimpse of what my little boy might have looked like alive.

Monday night we went to bed shortly before midnight, and talked and giggled a little like usual (we are like children when we go to bed, tickling, telling funny stories, and laughing at each other). Then I we rolled over and layed there in the dark, silent, drifting off to sleep. I waited until I felt a kick before saying anything. “I think it’s after midnight. You know what today is?” 27 weeks. Third trimester.

I feel so big compared to what I was a month or two ago, and yet I look in the mirror and realize I’m pretty tiny. If I wear empire waist maternity outfits sometimes it just camouflages the belly. I prefer tight shirts that emphasize the fact that I’m pregnant. Look out, people in airport, preggo lady needs bathroom! Move it, move it!

I feel remarkably good, given how sore I was in the first trimester. My hips have stopped aching for the most part, my boobs haven’t hurt in a long while, my back has been doing well despite flights and a lot of walking. My wrists still give me the odd moment of discomfort, but being off work (and away from the repetitive motions) for a couple of weeks have done them good. I do still have near daily heartburn, but it is a very light burning, more an irritation than anything else.

The little monster-in-my-belly is getting very big, and very strong. I keep thinking she’s a tiny little thing floating around in there, like she was, but then I get a butt pushing out above my belly button while something kicks me on the other side and I realize she’s a lot bigger than I think. She’s still so very active – not every day, not all day, but frequently. Yesterday on the plane she kicked and squirmed for quite some time, but was largely quiet throughout the travels. But as soon as we got in bed she woke up. Kicking, punching, tap-tap-tapping, she kept me awake for a good part of the night. She doesn’t like it when I lay on my left side, but my right side gives me more heartburn and is much less comfortable overall. I like sleeping on my left, it gives me the best, deepest sleep. She apparently felt crowded by the angle. (I am still perfectly comfortable sleeping somewhat tilted onto the front of my hip, rather than on my side.)

The squirmy monster on top of the time change and long day of travel has resulted in me being very, very tired today – not to mention the shitty slushy snowstorm and my car stuck in the muddy slush on the side of the driveway and power being out at both home and work. It was a great first day home (snort). I took a long nap and now I’m just trying to stay up until bedtime, so I can sleep all night and hopefully get back on track.

Baby girl and I are very patriotic!

To be honest, I am so annoyed that I don’t have a clear idea on which name to use for this baby. Denis too is frustrated by my indecision, but has remained neutral, saying he loves both names (though he’s clear on which one he’d choose) and it’s up to me. He knows how I make decisions using my emotional brain, that I am waiting to feel it, to know it. But he also knows how deadlocked I can become.

This is not something anyone can help me with. I have gone up and down the list of pros and cons (in my head) of each name, of why it may or may not suit her, of problems we may or may not run into, of which full name I like better, which nickname I like better, what people will end up calling her, what peoples’ reactions will be, and what she will eventually think of her name. I tried a suggestion where I call out each name in my living room; it was supposed to clarify which name suits our family, which name fits in our home, but instead I realized they both equally failed as I still simply cannot picture a child in this house. I am paralyzed with indecision and anxiety. I want not just a good name, but the perfect. I fear regret.

Obviously I am far, far over-thinking this.

I never expected to be this person, the one with the nameless baby. Especially not after Devin, who was Devin from 18 weeks forward, whose very identity and name brought me so much comfort (and yet so much pain). For him there was only one possible name, the perfect name, and it was so easy. Knowing who he was ahead of time seemed so precious to me. I want that again. I don’t want to go into the labor room not knowing who she is. I don’t want to be panicking at the last minute.

This baby has been problematic from the start. She never had a nickname and now she doesn’t have a real name, either.

Even when have grieved, when you’ve moved on to living and assimilated the loss of your child into your life, become your “new normal,” there’s so many little ways in which you recognize that you are different. Your normal is not THE normal. Never again. There are just some sights, some sounds, some words, that will never mean the same thing again.

Today I’m putting together some of baby girl’s ultrasound pictures into a cute little collage that I can get printed as a photo to give to family members. The collage itself is finished but I just needed a cute little quote or something to put on there to finish it off. So I looked around online for ideas.

I ran across this one: “Little girls are just angels who haven’t yet spread their wings.” It just made me shudder, like little girls are just waiting to die. Now that is not an image I want. Any mention of wings or angels just does not sit well with me anymore, not in anything to do with my still-living child. It is no longer just a cute metaphor.

I found a quote that seemed at first glance to be appropriate, not too cutesie-over-the-top-rainbows, and even was specific to the time of pregancy, before the baby is born. But then after I put it on the image I sat back and realized that it sat really wrong with me. It reads: “Before you were born… we loved you.” It’s the past-tense thing. Loved. I had also put the date of the ultrasound on the card in small print, like I would a scrapbook page, and the whole effect was rather disturbing to me, a little too close to a memorial.

So all text was erased. Maybe we’ll do without a little quote.