I had my 20 week ultrasound without any plans of doing a gender reveal party. Due to the fact that all of our family is too far away to gather together as usual and due to the fact we were already fairly certain it's another boy, we kept things on the down low.
We did take a quick minute to do a belly shot before the appointment where I later looked at the picture and fount it ironically fitting that I unintentionally wore all blue to my appointment.
Because you guessed it. The ultrasound tech repeatedly told us she's 100% certain it's another boy, making us an all blue family. We saw this coming. Like 5 years ago, so we accept you #4. We know how to raise you. We can almost guarantee we have all your favorite toys already. We have 3 buddies already in place eager to assist you through your journey to manhood. We are getting good at this. You picked the right family.
Also, it should be mentioned, those 3 buddies have decided to name baby Papi? Poppy? Poppi? They haven't clarified the spelling. Or the meaning. One day we were asking them what we should name the new brother. Without hesitation, Eli said Poppy. It's stuck ever since. Whenever I try to bring up other names, the boys go, "That's YOUR name, but OUR name is Poppy."
They even got Lincoln on the Poppy bus. Lincoln kisses my belly anytime someone utters the word Poppy. It's cute they have their own little name for him, I just wish I could figure out what inspired it!
All my pregnancy issues disappeared the minute Jeff got back from Canada. It was a week of crazy, and now I feel totally normal again. At the appointment, everything checked out great. Baby measured perfectly on everything. The placenta previa has corrected itself. All body systems go for delivery. Thumbs up.
I may blame the hormones. I may blame the ever growing belly. I may blame the cold weather. I may blame my constant underlying fixation on growing my hair out to impressive lengths only to chop it all off without any warning. It's probably some kind of mixture of all of that which led me to stare at my locks one week and grow to detest them. They just had to go. I had not even been considering cutting my hair, and then, very abruptly, I could no longer consider keeping it long.
Just weeks ago I told numerous people of my habitual hair chopping, but assured them I was keeping it long this time. Never trust a chopper.
I did it again! And no. I didn't donate it. Hate me if you want. I still have a ponytail from my last chop I need to send in somewhere, but I'm also kind of precautiously keeping it in case I ever lose my hair, because how cool would it be to have a wig of years' worth of your own hair? Should have kept this chunk of hair for my own selfish wig cause, but I didn't. Anyway.I chopped! I love it! I can turn my head without static, frizz, tangles. It's the perfect length. It's a fun change. It has made my hormonal heart happy and content for now.
I'm 22 weeks today! April feels close. I need some of that nesting to kick in so we can start getting ready for Poppy in more significant ways than a hair cut.