It's 5am and I can't sleep. This is the first of many nights, I'm sure, that the baby will wake me and not let me fall back asleep. The baby has been kicking up a storm these past few days, no doubt preparing for the big show which is taking place in a few short hours. Our second (and final) sonogram! I felt the first poke from our little one while upside down in my prenatal yoga class. I was a few days shy of 17 weeks. According to books and expert friends and family, that was pretty early. Some people asked if I was sure that I was really feeling the baby. I was sure. At 12 weeks, while trying to hear the heartbeat through the static of kicks, the doctor commented on how active the baby was and then scribbled in his notes something about a great personality and acute comedic timing. So last night (instead of watching another episode of Dexter), we were laying in bed reading our baby books. I was reading the Baby Whisperer and Chris was deep into Bill Cosby's Fatherhood, books we checked out from the Bryan Library. (Bryan as in Courtney Bryan, not the Episcopal High School Bryan Library. That would be weird.) Anyway, that's when the baby really started socking it to me. On this momentous occasion, not only was the baby not pulling any punches, but Chris actually had the patience to put his hand on my belly for more than 10 seconds. That's when he felt a slam to the ute. Incredible!
Above: This is how I picture my baby right now, winding up for another punch. Good form kiddo, but keep that other hand up by your cheek. (pic courtesy of Weaver Baby Album.)
The baby woke me with another round of kicks early this morning, and that's OK, because I know he or she is just as excited as I am that today marks 20 weeks...the halfway point. I tried to go back to sleep but then it dawned on me, I am carrying a "mini-Weaver". Based on the stories I've heard from the entire Weaver clan and from Chris himself, as I child he was no walk in the park. (Or as Dikembe Mutombo, the Nigerian NBA player would say "No walk in the cake".) Apparently young Chris was a bit of a handful/spitfire. Uh-oh. Well instead of letting my mind wander from one Weaver childhood horror story to the next, I focused on all the reasons I am thrilled this baby could be just like their daddy. What better way to celebrate/justify this notion than with photos from Chris' childhood. (I hope the sound of the scanner doesn't wake him.)
Based on what I know to be true about my husband now, these pictures demonstrate that our baby could...
be adventurous, with a love for the great outdoors.
be pretty.
have nice legs and a sense of humor.
be strong and from Jacksonville.
love ridiculous costumes at an early age, and REALLY not care what anyone thinks.
I have a feeling I'm going to love this baby just as much as I love their wacked out dad.
1 comment:
Looks like Chris had a bored older sister.
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