Today you get the long version.

E and I have always planned on more than one kid, although we’ve never actually decided how many. I’m one of three, so I think three sounds good. He’s one of four, and insists middle children always turn out weird so we have to have an even number. My original “plan” to “plan” on kids 15 or 16 months apart flew right out of my crazy-ass brain the second I went into labor with Baby Evan but the further I got from the actual birthing event the sooner I thought maybe I’d like to do it again. So when I couldn’t remember to take my mini-pill I didn’t sweat it. Besides, I’ve only had one period and one almost-period since June 2008 thanks to breastfeeding full time – nature’s child spacing, if you want to be a hippie about it. But just like EVERYONE TOLD ME, nursing is not a foolproof method of preventing pregnancy and so here I am. Although if I’m being totally honest, I would say we were trying to get pregnant harder than we were trying not to. Believe it or not, nosey cow at the blood-draw lab, I DO know where babies come from and how to keep it from happening. And this one happened on purpose.

I decided I was pregnant about two weeks ago, right around my own birthday. I didn’t base my suspicions on any medical facts or actual symptoms – just my own intuition. I mean, I don’t want to sound like a crazy person, but I could just sense that I wasn’t alone in my body anymore. Although when I say it like that it sounds INCREDIBLY CREEPY. I had a few moments of heartburn, a little light headedness and a tiny bit of nausea but not any more than I’ve had every other time I’ve imagined I was pregnant. I suppose my biggest clue was my milk supply seems to have decreased a little – not enough to starve my child to death but I’m definitely not going to be wet nursing any stray babies people leave on my doorstep. I think right now my biggest fear is that this pregnancy is going to ruin my nursing relationship with Baby Evan – either because my milk dries up or because I can’t handle sharing my body with TWO babies – and that makes me want to cry. We worked so hard to make nursing work, it’s not fair to take away his favorite thing in the world. At least I still have some time to figure all that out.

Since I don’t know when I was ovulating, I really don’t know how far along I am. My best guess is I conceived at the end of March, although it could be as early as February. I had the same problems getting a test to register my knocked-upped-ness as I did when I was first pregnant with Baby Evan, so I think convincing myself I’m probably already 5 or 6 weeks along is just going to end up being disappointing when I go in for my 10 week ultrasound and I’m only at 5 weeks. Unfortunately, instead of wanting to see me SOONER to determine my stage of pregnancy my OB scheduled my first visit for JUNE 2ND. JUUUUUUNE SEEEEECOOOOOND. That’s a ridiculous amount of time to wait to find out a due date. How am I supposed to start counting down the seconds if I have no idea how many seconds to count?

So there you go. Bebehblog is now going to be Bebehsblog (not technically, don’t change you bookmarks or anything drastic) and I’m going to be a mother of 2. Oh crap.

p.s. Any suggestions for what to call Baby #2 while we wait to find out what he/she is? I never managed to come up with something cute for Baby Evan,