Week 32...and the Bergquists too!
Thirty-two oh-so miss them when they're gone weeks have slipped past since we thought we might manage another human being in our little happy equation and now with only about eight or so weeks left...you know, give or take...we're getting a lot giddy, a whole big bunch giddy, in fact.
People we know are flipping out babies early which makes us both terrified and impatient. Aimee and Kevin had their little feller, Simon, in Ann Arbor this week so now Harmon (isn't that the bestest name ever...I mean, next to Simon) has himself a little brother now and the fine and dandy Kevin and Aimee that I met in the Hartwig offices at UM and instantly fell very much in like with back in '94 are now a stunning FOUR people, not two. That kind of multiplication baffles me. I mean, I know my reproductive and gestation times tables and all but the last time I looked they were a beautiful and fully functional "three" and before that a grin inducing "two"...now they're a holy shnikes "four" and I'm very worried about my math skills. Suddenly 32 weeks doesn't seem that far away from 40 weeks...which doesn't seem that far away from little Elli coming home for Thanksgiving from school in Ann Arbor and saying, "Mom...Dad...I'd like you to meet that boy I was telling you about. This is Simon Bergquist and I think I love him." My God...my frontal lobes are hemorrhaging.
Then before you know it little Simon has found himself a new girl, one from some random town in Southern Illinois (and who could blame him really, Elli being so hesitant to commit and all), and a not so little Elli is on the phone telling us that she's leaving for Europe and needs $2000 because she just "has to get away from here because everything reminds her of Simon." Well we can't afford that kind of nonsense and we tell her so and she goes and sells the computer that we bought her at Christmas and drops out of college to move to Australia and learn to surf...maybe meet a guy named Callum...not Jack or Eddie...Callum. #$%&, this is gonna be tough.
The good part is that June looks like a million bucks. I could manage a mirror a little better but the impending Mom looks great. We can't wait to meet the restless and fairly violent lump of kicks and stretches that's been pounding the junk outta June's belly for months now but we're both a little scared of that Bergquist heartbreak.