25w 2d tequila

This is the 85th post to this baby-laden blog and we’re getting oh so close to only 100 days in the countdown. Back at the beginning, I remember wondering what it would be like when we finally got to this point…

What will it be like when I’m big and round? Uncomfortable… bizarre… like I’ve had a large, half-inflated beach ball implanted under my stretched-out skin. And if I even think about slouching a fraction of an inch, my lungs ache.

What will kicks feel like? Like one of those strong heartbeats you get after running a mile, only lower down and amplified. The softer ones are like a padded nudge while the harder ones are like someone has hooked around and jabbed at your guts. It used to be localized, but now I’ll just as easily feel a kick to the nether regions followed immediately by a jab to the ribs.

Will I stop thinking about miscarriage? Not really. I still think about the first baby, who never had a chance. Sometimes I wish I knew if it had been a girl or boy, and sometimes I’m glad I don’t know, glad it ended quickly before it could’ve broken even more of my heart, if that’s possible. But I still wonder if something can go wrong with this pregnancy, or even a future pregnancy, and if I’m going to be put through that again.

I’m still surprised this is really happening. This afternoon I lifted my shirt for a moment and watched my child – my child – move and thump around in his/her cramped neighborhood (AKA my ribcage). We have a child. We made a person. And he/she is growing. Here is exhibit A to admit into evidence:


In case you heard the naming rumor, it’s true. This weekend, Andy did in fact say, “If we have a Mexican baby, can we name it Toquita Banana?”

Ahh, Baby Toquita, how we long to gaze upon your Hispanic face. At least we aren’t naming you Tequila.

In honor of Toquita Banana, here’s my favorite song by my favorite Mexican pop star (La Pared versión acústica, by Shakira).

Sabes que sin ti ya yo no soy
Sabes que a donde vayas voy, naturalmente
Después de ti la pared, no me faltes nunca
Debajo el asfalto y mas abajo estaría yo,
Sin ti

You know that without you I no longer am
You know wherever you go, I go, naturally
After you, the wall, don’t ever let me be without you
Beneath the asphalt and even deeper down, I’d be,
Without you.