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***A quick note here: I wrote this post three weeks after Gracen was born (March 26th), and it has taken me this long to publish it. Over a MONTH. Because this whole mother of 3 thing is a bit more exhausting than I imagined. More on that later, though…

Labor & Delivery

Dad, you may just want to go ahead and bid us all adieu. This is not a post for the super-faint of heart or anyone who gets uncomfortable at the mention of the word “uterus.” I will, however, be as discreet as possible because—despite having three children—I do still have some modesty.

Just not enough for someone who watches Andy Griffith reruns on a daily basis.

(Seriously, dad. You can get back to Mayberry now.)

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The Little Baby Who Cried Wolf It’s been an eventful week in the Morgan household as we had YET ANOTHER false alarm this past Sunday. You’d think that by the third time around the labor and delivery block I’d have a knack for what true labor feels like, but this is one tricky little baby.

This is the little baby who cried wolf.

To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t blame our baby. I blame the pastor who preached such a wonderful sermon at our church this past Sunday.

[Well, that seems reasonable.]

I’ll explain.

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As Brian and I near the end of our carefree parenting days in a man-to-man defense and move into a zone defense, it seems fitting to publish the rest of our family/maternity photos. It’s difficult for me to imagine how different our lives will look and feel this time next week.

Family Photos

I had an OB appointment this past Tuesday, and I AM actually making some progress in the laboring department. So, it appears that you all should hear some baby news from us by the end of next week if not sooner, Lord willing!

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Feeling Lucky

Aaaahhhhhhhh, St. Patrick’s Day. The day I remember from childhood as an excuse for all the little girls with green scrunchies and embroidered, clover jumpers to run around pinching the crap out of those of us who forgot to wear green to school.

I’m pretty sure Saint Patrick is the patron saint of mean little girls.

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Operation: False Alarm

I know I promised I would publish the rest of our family photos this week unless, of course, something else happened.

Well, something else happened. 

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With a Little Help from My Girlfriends

Several weeks ago I received a message from my precious friend Donna to ask if she could throw me a baby shower in Georgia. First of all…let me just stop right here so I can confess something. Thoughtfulness is probably not my super power.

If you listen closely, you can hear my family violently nodding their heads in agreement.

I’m forgetful. I’m self-centered by nature. I’m a procrastinator. And I can be selfish with my time.

If there was a support group for people like me, NO ONE would show up for the meetings.

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Four More Weeks

Last September I had dinner with my dear, childhood friends Liz and Donna. Liz was in her third trimester with twin babies (her 3rd and 4th kids), and I recall that she was lamenting her overall state of discomfort. She had weeks left before she was officially full term, but Liz said she would have let the doctor rip her open that moment—right on a table in the middle of Panera Bread—to end her suffering.

Okay, those are my melodramatic words, not hers.

I was at the barely-there baby bump phase of this pregnancy, and I remember encouraging/lecturing her on the importance of carrying full term and the absolute atrocity of c-sections for the sake of the mother’s comfort or convenience. Shame on these mothers for wanting to rip a child out of the womb before he or she is fully developed, I thought to myself. Shame on them!

Oh…stupid, stupid Katy. 

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New Vlog Series!

I am thrilled to announce what I hope will be the first of many in a vlog series entitled “Kid Questions.” This is where I sit down and—in two minutes or less—answer kids’ most burning questions about anything and everything. I won’t go so far as to call myself an expert on anything and everything, but I’ve been known to wow the toddlers in my house with the breadth of my knowledge.

(Warning: If you struggle to understand sarcasm, this is not the video series for you or your children. For that matter this is not the blog for you.)

Today, I begin this series with a question straight from one of my own children:

“How did the baby get in mommy’s belly?”

Ooooooooh, yeah. That happened.

Please watch and be amazed as I reenact my succinct yet satisfying answer.

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Gender Reveal

Last Wednesday I had my first appointment with the doctor who will, Lord willing, deliver our 3rd child on (or hopefully very close to) March 30th. It’s currently November, and I hadn’t seen a doctor since August. Unless you count Dr. Doogie Howser who saw me in the ER after my flu shot. I didn’t talk much about him in my post, but I’m pretty sure he graduated from medical school approximately 15 minutes before he walked into the exam room.

And I know some of you type-A personalities would freak out if you had to wait 3 months for an ultrasound, but we had no choice. In three short months, we packed up our entire lives, left Kansas, semi-moved to my in-law’s place in Georgia, left the military, looked for a new job, found a new job, semi-moved into a corporate apartment in Alabama, found a house, and then found a doctor.

Basically, I’ve been sitting on my pregnant butt eating cheese dip and watching Judge Judy since August.
 
[She seems like the Judge Judy type. Also, the cheese dip type.]
 
I could seriously go for some cheese dip right now.

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