Sunday, May 25, 2014

I'm THAT mother.

                  I promised I would never be the mom that had a gazillion pictures of her oldest, and two of her youngest.  I promised I would never be the mom that was too tired to relish the birth experience of number two, or three.  I promised that I would never make a big deal out of some kids and not others.  I was wrong.  Fleming number three, aka Jebediah Crockett Fleming, is about to pop out any day, and I haven't even posted cute belly shots.  I've taken a few, but they are sitting on my digital camera in my closet, waiting to get dumped on the computer and then transferred to the blog.
                  I have been sicker, more tired, and stressed with this baby than the others, but it doesn't mean that I wanted him any less.  I want him to know that yes, he was a surprise, but Heavenly Father told me that I was going to have another one eventually and it is an answer to many many many prayers regarding my "broken girl system".  I really wanted and tried for my first two babies, and Heavenly Father blessed me in his own time, but this baby was the Lord telling me that we were supposed to have another one.  It was taken out of my hands and now we will have a new Flemlett to grace our Texas house.
                  From all mega complicated ultrasound accounts, he is built like Kizzie:  a big head, long torso, and little legs.  However he has his brother's stubbornness and spunk:  he's currently fixed in the breech position with legs up by his face, determined to scare me daily and make me think that he's coming early.  We're on the final countdown.  34 weeks, OB trying to get me to at least 37.  Children at school screaming at each other and turning into "Lord of the Flies" and I'm just trying to survive with sanity intact.  This is number three, possibly the last depending on the state of my lady business after this experience.  I can't wait to hold this little one in my arms and fast forward to the fun part of the newborn experience, when you are healed and the baby smiles and life is good (and the house looks like junk and you're in your sweatpants, but it doesn't matter).

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