There's nothing like a three month hiatus to get me back in the mood to write again. It's been an eventful several months as you might have guessed. Let's see if I can quickly (that is difficult for me) fill you in on the highlights:

At the end of December, we went home to visit our friends and family for several weeks. While we were there, I ate enough Roly Poly, Chick-fil-A, and Moe's to satisfy an army of sumo wrestlers for a year. We also had the joy of experiencing two baby showers given by our most precious friends! One week after returning from the States, Brian and I packed up and said goodbye to Grange Barn in Walsham le Willows and hello to Barn 2 in Northwold. Not nearly as glamorous sounding, but I assure you the space we now have and the distance to base is worth the trouble (Stay tuned for a home tour of Barn 2!). We also said goodbye to our old SAAB 9-5 which decided to die forever on the side of the road at least several hours from home. We then purchased a "new," silver Honda Accord which I then proceeded to run into a gas pump last week. So, now it's silver with yellow "trim."

Now you're mostly up to speed with our lives. There's something else going on...I can't quite remember what it was...OH, YES! We're having a baby next month.

We went yesterday for our first (and probably our only) labor and delivery rehearsal. It was given by my favorite midwife - she's the one who insists that I look really cute pregnant. Wonder why I keep requesting her at all my appointments. Her name is Major Norcross, and she's incredibly knowledgeable. I tend to not trust women who have only had one kid or no kids and want to give me advice on labor. Don't talk to me unless you've had AT LEAST two - preferably four or more. Well, she's had four, and she knows her stuff.

She went through what we should bring with us to the hospital, when we should actually go to the hospital (not when contractions first start), and how things will go once we're there. She filled us in on all the gory details, many of which were completely new to Brian and me. I had no idea I might throw up during labor. Neither did Brian. He's now reconsidering his role in this whole thing. She even had some of the husbands get on the bed and demonstrate different laboring positions. It was pretty hilarious. I was just hoping the whole time that the poor guy hadn't had Taco Bell or something for dinner. That's where my mind is going these days.

Major Norcross showed us a video of several women and how they handled the labor and birthing process. If it's possible to be completely inspired, freaked out and grossed out at the same time, then that's what I was. I think Brian was just 100% freaked out. These women weren't actors. Their pain was intense, and their expressions were real. The blood and gore was real. The relief on their faces once they held their little ones was real. I was in awe of their strength, and I wanted to harness it for myself.

So, I made a decision. I'm not going to ask for the epidural in the parking lot like I originally planned. I'm going to give it a try. I like the thought of not having a numb backside for hours after having JJ (Julian James). I love the thought of being able to say I accomplished something I never thought I could do. I'm not pressuring myself or restricting myself to anything. Lord only knows what will happen that day. But I'm going to give it a try. God willing, I'll be able to say I did it. But no matter what happens, I'll still have the precious reward at the end of it all.

With only 5 weeks (give or take) to go, it's starting to all sink in. We have a crib, a car seat, and all the other baby accouterments. Sometimes I just sit in his room and look at that crib and wonder what he'll look like and how he'll sound. I wonder how our lives will change just knowing he's dependent on us for everything. I wonder why we didn't have kids when we were younger and stupider and didn't realize what an enormous responsibility this is to raise another human being.

These are just some of my sentimental, pregnant ramblings. Hopefully, I'll be able to share more as we approach "D" (Delivery) Day and after our little mini-me arrives.

Is it December 11th already? Christmas is swiftly approaching, our bundle of joy is on its way into this world, but, sadly, my cognitive ability is on its way out. I found out this week why many pregnant women tend to "nest" or to prepare their homes for the anticipated newborn. It's because anything requiring more thought than typical housework would simply flop. Sure, I'm loving the process of building my own business and seeking out more ways to get my message out there (more on that later), but there are days I can barely remember my own name - much less the contents of a 6-hour seminar for business professionals. 

I had one such seminar in Yorkshire this past Tuesday, and I must confess I wasn't quite "on my game." I do believe I gave them the information they expected and desired, but it was the delivery that I'm afraid might have suffered due to what our UK friends like to call "mumnesia." I guess the Americans would call it "momnesia"? In case you're wondering, the Brits say mum with a "u" instead of mom with an "o."

Anyhow, I thoroughly enjoyed the interacting with the group of Administrative Professionals on Tuesday, and I received some encouraging feedback. However, there was more than one occasion where I'm certain I went on a mini mental holiday for several seconds before realizing where I was and what I was supposed to say next. This kind of mental block hasn't really happened to me since the first formal presentation I gave back in 2003. The one where I blacked out because I was so nervous. The one where a room full of Rotary Club members believed I might have a stroke there in their lunch meeting. The one where my mom sat there laughing at me because she couldn't believe I was actually blacking out in front of all these professionals.

This Tuesday, I'm not sure where those few mental holidays took me (the Caribbean sounds nice), but I am convinced that it might be best for me to refrain from operating heavy machinery or performing brain surgery for the duration of this pregnancy...make that the duration of parenthood.

Shifting gears, I'd like to pose a few questions to our readers:

1) What is the dumbest thing you've ever done on accident? Extra points if they're "mumnesia" stories. Even more extra points if you forgot something important...like where you left your kids.

We have an appointment next Tuesday for our 22-week ultrasound. You know what that means? Time to quite calling the baby "it." So, my next question is:

2) Do you think we'll have a boy or girl?

I think girl. Brian thinks boy. I want to know what YOU think!

How could I ever doubt the presence of God when I have seen this little miracle growing inside of me? How can I articulate the thrill of hearing that little heartbeat for the first time? How can I get my husband to stop messing with all the sterilized instruments in the doctor's office before I have to slap him? These were just a few of the thoughts that went through my mind yesterday at my first OB appointment. 

When I originally scheduled my 6-9 week appointment for next week, I wasn't thinking that my dear friends Amy and Donna are coming to visit! So, I moved my appointment to yesterday (Wednesday). Of course, the only time they had available was 8 a.m. - not really a "happy" time for me these days. But none of that mattered knowing we would see our baby for the first time!

After the nurse practitioner (who is a Major in the Air Force) had asked and answered lots of questions, we made our way to the ultrasound room. As soon as she properly positioned the machine, I knew immediately what I saw. I looked at that little peanut and exclaimed, "That's the head!" I couldn't believe how clearly we could see it. In fact, it wasn't that long ago that I looked at friends' ultrasound photos at 20 weeks and couldn't distinguish one black and white blob from another one. The technology available to us now is absolutely incredible. Not only could we see the shape of it's little body (approximately 3/4" in length), but we could see a precious little heart that was beating for all it was worth. The nurse recorded 170 beats per minute. No wonder I'm so out of breath!

I believe that was the first moment I allowed myself to believe that this is really happening and that I hadn't just imagined it all. There is a human being that is 100% dependent on me already. Every decision I make - whether to travel, eat, sleep, exercise, etc. - is preempted by the thought, "Is this the best thing for our child?" What an absolutely thrilling and terrifying feeling.

As for Brian's part, he's managed the extra responsibilities well. I don't think he fully understands why I can't even go into the kitchen without dry heaving or why I wake up every day more exhausted than when I went to bed, but he's more than willing to help out. I am trying my best not to overwork him now, because I know I'm going to need him desperately when I can no longer see my feet. 

And speaking of enormous bellies, I did ask the nurse if it was normal to eat about 8 to 10 meals a day. I usually eat something substantial (like a sandwich or soup and a piece of fruit) and feel absolutely starving one hour later. I'm watching that scale creep up pretty quickly, and it's making me wonder. If this is how almost 9 weeks feels, how is 40 is going to feel? She assured me it was my body's way of forcing me to store up some extra fat to help the baby grow. So, now I feel completely justified eating enough in one day to satisfy four grown men. As a side note, it seems a bit ironic now that we live in a barn...a barn that housed cows, as a matter of fact. First person to call me a heifer gets a swift slap on the head.

Anyhow, after such an exciting appointment, we both wanted to travel to RAF Feltwell (just north of RAF Mildenhall and RAF Lakenheath). This base houses the local military veterinary clinic as well as a small furniture store. We walked straight to the baby section of the store to check out prices on cribs, strollers, car seats, high chairs, playpens, toys - I never really stopped to think about how much gear a baby requires! There was an interesting toy that caught my eye.

They advertise it as an "activity station" rather than by its street name, "vibrating, noise-making plastic device that shuts your baby up for a few hours." Yes, activity station sounds much nicer. I was actually admiring the cute little children on the front of the box when I thought that perhaps one of them looked like our niece Reagan. I looked a few seconds longer and said, "That IS Reagan!"

I think we may have to buy that activity station just to show off the box to all our friends!

So, that's the latest in the development of our Mini-Morgan or "Peanut." Or as Gerald likes to call it, G-baby. Or as Pam likes to call it, "MY Grandbaby." This poor kid is going to be so confused.

In the mean time, Brian and I aren't sitting around twiddling our thumbs waiting for this baby to arrive. I believe the reality of our new family dynamic has motivated us to make the most of our amazing location. So, stay tuned for more on our upcoming trip to the Czech Republic next week and a Mediterranean Cruise in October (including stops in Italy, Greece, Turkey, Israel, and Egypt). April will be here before we know it!

PS - We'll keep all pregnancy photos in "The Peanut Gallery"