My Name Is, My Name Is...

I've been told not to tell people what we're thinking for names because everyone has an opinion. We go through a lot of phases with the whole name issue. We had the New York themed names like Brooklyn or Holland for a girl and Hudson for a boy. The more common names like Alexis or Isabella. And the hippie names like Rain and Bodhi. Lately we've been juggling names like Jackson, Dean, Hunter for boys and Alina, Vivian for girls. One problem is that these names tend to synchronize themselves with our lives. When we come up with a name, it's almost guaranteed that we'll meet or hear of three kids with that same name.

The Social Security website for baby names has been helpful to find out what's more common now and 100 years ago. Statistics geeks will enjoy going through the Top 1000 names by decade or finding out what year their name was the most popular. Perusing this I found thousands of children with names like Unique, Baby, Princess, Mercedes, Lexus, and about 6 spellings of the name Madison Madisyn Madyson Maddison Madisen Madisson. So whatever we name our child, I'll take comfort knowing that it's not any of those.

What's the big deal with a common name? I dunno. When I was born, Ethan was ranked 321. It was cool having a name that not many people had. These days it's ranked #5, so it gets annoying when I'm in crowds at the beach and keep hearing my name being yelled to children and wanting to answer.

Since American names tend not to mean anything like in other countries -- "Hello, I am Munkás. It means River in Hungarian." -- why not just make one up? Just throw some vowels and consonants together and come up with something that has rhythm with a difficult name like Aronoff. That was kind of the genesis of Alina. Dean came about because someone once came up to me and said, "Are you Dean?" I said, "No, but I wish I was now. That's a kickass name." Vivian was the classic approach. Hunter and Jackson were the mildly pretentious ones. So we'll see what happens. But like I've said, 10 fingers and 10 toes is all I'm really concerned with at this point. Oh, and having the heart beat inside the chest. That's a good one too.

9 Week Sonogram

Arms and Legs

Katrina got another sonogram today. They usually don't do them this frequently, but luckily our doctor is as paranoid as we are. It's a side view and the head is pointing to 2 o'clock. You can make out an eye and some small appendages. Hopefully, two of each -- another worry down! This little raisin has turned into a bonafide medium sized olive! 2.61cm. It's amusing how all the baby books compare everything to food. We've had peas, pinto, and kidney beans. In the weeks to come we graduate to "small plum" then to "large lime". I suppose once we get past peaches and grapefruits they'll start using actual measurements.

One of the new million or so thoughts that pass through your mind when you're about to have child is that of your own mortality. "Gee, maybe I should get this mole checked out," you start thinking. "I better not get hit by a bus. That would suck! And my kid won't have a father!" If I had a motorcycle, I'd probably sell it. Maybe I'll call up that duck from AFLAC and have him run down the various life insurance policies to us.

We're planning on ditching our schmancy condominium (which apparently is latin for To Overcharge For No Reason) and finding some digs that are not only on a lower floor, but allows us to put some money away. We had planned this for our lease ending in February, but who knew this conception thing would work on the first try. I had a friend who tried for 10 years before it happened. It turns out, God was a QVC baby selling emcee that day. "Did I say years? I meant today!" One wave of the almighty hand and Katrina's cervix turns into a catcher's mitt. Hey batter batter, hey batter. I guess that's something to brag about. Yes, first try...thank you! Just as well. As much as I was looking forward to the trying aspect of it, I kept getting the shivers from this one image. Katrina lying in bed with her knees folding up to her chest for an hour trying to let gravity work in our favor. Ewwwww. You think I'm being gross? You're lucky I've decided to refrain from constipation stories. So there.

So, back to moving. I'm trying to take this on while finding a better paying and regular job. All the while attempting to hide the stress from our new mom. Stress is bad. Momma gets stressed? Baby gets stressed. But so far it's looking promising, given the fact that I don't really care where we live. Our landlord is cool with us breaking the lease and even gave us some numbers of other landlord buddies he has that have apartments we may like. There's also Craigslist.com, which has become like the friggin' bible at this point. It has job postings and real estate. Not to mention a casual encounters forum in case I decide to go gay! Is there anything Craigslist can't do?

Just Call It Sickness

Whoever called it morning sickness needs to be shot. It's a total misnomer. Katrina is sick so often that a regular person would think they have the flu. Nausea nearly 24 hours a day. And she recoils at the sight of foods now. You know when you're hungover and you look in the refrigerator, see the extra beer, and get sick at the sight of it? We would poetically call it the Fear of Beer syndrome. Katrina has the Fear of Food. We went to a friend's engagment party this weekend and the spread on their table of potato and pasta salads, salsa and chips was more than she could take. She needed to leave the room.

She even has an interesting condition where she can only eat a meal once, then she can't stand the sight of it anymore. For instance, she'll eat pasta or chicken one night. Then after that event she can't see or even think of that particular entree again, let alone consume it, without getting ill. We still haven't run out of options, but I hope we can start at chicken again soon.

And yes, we've heard from countless veterans that her sickness is natural and that it means everything is going well. But I fear the next person who tells Katrina that is going to get punched in the mouth. It's kind of ironic, kneeling over the toilet at work and having women tell you how LUCKY you are.

7 Week Sonogram

The Raisin Has A Heartbeat

The peanut shaped object on the left is the baby. The round thingy on the right is the yolk sack, which the baby uses for nourishment until the umbilical cord and placenta are more mature.

138 beats per minute, which we're told is "perfect." See that? I'm already being competitive with other would-be parents. 'What's yer fetus kid's heartrate, pal? Oh yeah? Sounds kinda lowww to me.' But, it was pretty easy to find during the sonogram. Katrina started laughing and crying simultaneously, making the sonogram tech tell her that she was messing up the image with her stomach movements. After that it was mostly taking measurements of Katrina's internal bits and pieces, checking for cysts or other problems. But everything is attached and in the right place. So we can scratch ectopic pregnancy off the worries list, where the baby starts to grow in the ovary or fallopian tube instead of where it should be. So, with that and the heartbeat that's 2 worries down 480,624 to go!