it all started with french fries.

or curly fries to be more specific.

we were sitting at our little corner table ... having a quick bite to eat before our last dance class of the season. when the waft of fried seasoned potato cut into a curly fashion crept into my olfactory senses.

the queasiness started rising to the surface.

and then the children began assaulting me with their curly fry encrusted fingers smothered in ketchupy hues of red.

i just about lost it.

i kept placing my nasty blackberry iced tea in my face breathing in the scent of something not nearly strong enough to cancel out the stench of ketchuped curlies.

when we finally got to the car *deep breath* ... mini-van ... i rushed to grab the year old vanilla scented air freshener and attempted to smoosh it into my nostrils to rectify the scent of the spiraled potatoes that stella decided she needed to bring along with her.

and then i cried.

i cried in dance class when a little girl was bawling over ... i have no idea ... something. not. even. my. child. and i cried because she was sobbing.

i bawled when an on-star commercial came on and some poor man somewhere had been recorded during a car accident involving him being crushed into the front of his car. and the amazingly wonderful on-star woman told him that she would stay with him until someone else was there to help him.

i felt tears welling up because i was going to take a test to find out if i was pregnant and i was already 5 days late ... and because i hate french fries.

my husband and my best friend got me through that test.

the positive one.

the one that i peed on and immediately two pink lines appeared.

the one that told me that i'm pregnant with my third baby. my last baby.

and i'm trying to spend every single minute cherishing the fact that i feel like crap and that french fries suck and on-star telephone operators are the most wonderful people on the face of the earth.

it's hard though.

i took a bite of sliced ham the other day and remembered a note about avoiding lunch meats.
i walk through the day unbelievably exhausted and forget that i need to seek out opportunities to nap and let my body do what it's supposed to do.
i thoroughly enjoyed a delicious salad with pecans and craisins and goat cheese and balsamic dressing ... remembering (the next day) that soft cheeses should be avoided during pregnancy.

i'm happy. so happy. unexpectedly thrilled at the prospect of adding to our gaggle of girls. admittedly at peace with the idea of potential hues of blue popping up amid pinks and purples.

however ... i suppose this is how it is with your third pregnancy? too busy to remember every single minute that i actually AM pregnant?
does it sound horrendously awful if i say that i feel detached? if i say that i feel more insecure about this pregnancy than i did the last time? even though i'm constantly queasy and exhausted. and i'm experiencing the strangest dreams ... including one a week before the positive test in which i found out i was 6 weeks pregnant. i wasn't six weeks at the time. i don't think. i don't even remember when i need to go to see my midwife. i want to call her and i want to see her and i want her to kiss me on the cheek and tell me congratulations and i want her to tell me this is all going to happen. and it's true. and it's going to be ok.

but i don't feel like it's definite yet. although, i'm sure that the first whoosh of a heartbeat and the kick of a foot against my bladder will help with the inevitabilityness of it all.

i'll get there ... i'm sure. with a due date curiously close to the date that i lost my first baby. we're coming full circle, baby.

and i promise ... i'll pick out a name for you by the time you arrive. as long as you keep up the no-french-fry deal ... which is so good for mama's already expanding waistline.

to my friends and family that read this post before we've had the chance to call ... i'm sorry that you didn't hear this in person. i'm sorry that i've been so outright crazily busy that i haven't had the gumption to place a phone call to you. it's just that i needed to get my thoughts out on paper ... the internet ... i just needed to get these thoughts and feelings out of my wildly spinning mind. please know that i love you ... much. and i want you to call me and tell me that you'll go to the pool with me ... even though i'm going to look like a beached whale and i probably won't spend the money to buy a maternity suit by the end of the summer. i would really appreciate hearing that you will still love me ... even though you will no longer babysit for me.

and to my husband ... i'm sorry that i didn't check with you before i hit publish. i probably should have asked.

and to stella ... i'll try my hardest to ensure that you don't miss out on mommytime. and thank you for making me laugh tonight when you told cora that daddys have sprinkles that want to make babies with mommys eggs. because from now on ... i will only refer to them as sprinkles. it sounds so much better.

and to cora ... i'm sorry that i can't open up my tummy so that you can see the baby. but i love that you ask everytime that we are snuggled up together. soon enough darling. soon enough.