19 weeks

Though each day is a struggle right now, I am determined to enjoy every single second of the rest of this pregnancy, whether that be a matter of days, weeks or months. I am determined to ignore as much as possible that I still feel sick, though thankfully much of that has lifted over the past few days. Or maybe the emotions have been so strong that it has overrun the physical sensations of being sick. I don't know.

I am determined to notice every little kick, jab and bump that I get from this baby. To slow down and relish in each moment that he lives.

I am determined to move forward and be grateful for the miracle of having this child inside of me. To celebrate each milestone we reach together. Instead of checking each week off the calendar in anticipation of the arrival of "the day", I will slow down and appreciate every hour I have with this little boy, because they are already going too quickly.

I will celebrate my growing belly instead of being irritated that I am growing so much and showing so many weeks sooner than I usually do.

The weeks ahead will be filled with more ultrasounds. Instead of focusing on the numbers and the prognosis-though that will of course be a big part of them, I will focus on seeing my little angel alive inside me. His perfect little feet, his perfect little hands. The completely perfect little person that he is.....everywhere but one small place. As of now the pressure inside his little head has not affected the shape of his head or face....he has a beautiful little profile with the same little nose that some of our other children have had.

I have always loved my babies before they were born.

I don't know if I've ever loved one so fiercely though. My feelings for this child are overwhelming. I feel so protective of him, despite the fact that there is nothing I can do to protect him. I wish there were.

It takes a conscious effort to focus on the little things when I am already grieving this child, a normal pregnancy, my past innocence regarding many of the feelings I have had over the past few days.

It is daunting to look forward knowing that there are many difficult decisions to make in the days ahead.

We have been so blessed with an outpouring of love and support, kind words, phone calls, meals, offers to help, even gifts. So many wonderful people in our lives.....we are so very very blessed. We have been carried on the many prayers offered in our behalf since word began to spread.

It is humbling to be on the receiving end of such an outpouring. Humbling and hard, as it makes this all the more real. It has been hard to share this news...to say the words, to type the details....each time I answer questions, each time I explain out loud what we are facing, I am reminded that this is indeed what is happening. The more you say it, the less pretending there is that it all might just go away. While you know of course from the first moment news like this is placed in front of you that it is indeed happening, there is no getting around it, there is no pretending that you just might wake up tomorrow and find that it was all a bad dream, there is that little shred of denial. It's too harsh to be real. This isn't how my life goes.....this wasn't my plan.....

It is those moments that the prayers carry you through. That they carry me through. That the peace and love from our Heavenly Father envelop you and tell you that though this wasn't necessarily your plan, it is His plan, and He will carry you though it. He will carry me through this.

It is those moments when this little angel inside me moves around to remind me that for now, I will get to hold him. It may not be in my arms, but I will hold him every second of every day until it is time for him to go.

It may not be what I had in mind, but it is what is I have for now. For that I will be grateful today and every day.

The next day

Today is the next day in this journey. The day after we know a little bit more. The day that we begin to move on with "normal" life for the time being.

It has been an interesting handful of days since our ultrasound last Thursday. I wrote much here that evening, but haven't been able to bring myself to post it yet. It is a fairly lengthy burst of very raw emotion. Maybe I will be able to hit the publish button on it later this week.

The emotions of the weekend, and especially of that first day were overwhelming in a way I've not experienced before. Randomly bursting into tears, not trusting myself to be able to get through a conversation-about anything-without breaking down, trying to hold it together so as to not freak out my kids who didn't know anything....it was tiring.

Though each day since Thursday has lasted an eternity, as each night has come, so has a bit more acceptance, a bit more peace.

By Sunday, though my emotions were still unpredictable, I truly was doing ok. The intensity of everything I had been feeling for the days before seemed to finally be tapering. But I knew making it through church would not be easy. It was not because I was angry with God, not because I didn't want to be there. It was because I knew that my heart would be touched, and I didn't know if I was ready for that. If I was ready to be vulnerable to such tender things.

Church hadn't even started yet, but as we sat, the prelude music began. The first song I heard was "Be Still my Soul". So very fitting. The music continued, and so did the things spoken to my heart. Music has alway played a large part in my life, and I have found much comfort in hymns. I seem to be able to easily remember words to songs, especially to hymns. I have never been more grateful for this than as the prelude music played on Sunday morning and the words to the songs-each so very appropriate for my aching heart-floated through my head.

It was then that I knew that though things wouldn't be ok by the typical definition, that things would be all right. That even though Monday would come, and not bring better news, that it would not be more than I could bear. That I would be strengthened through that next day and will be in all the days ahead.

Our sweet little baby boy does have hydrocephalus. With the measurements taken yesterday it is actually worse than what we thought it was on Thursday. Not necessarily worse than some of the possibilities that were presented, but worse as far as raw numbers. There is no more "it might not have been an accurate measurement", or "maybe baby was in a bad position and they just didn't get the correct angle".

With the measurements yesterday we know that in his current state he sits in the 'moderate to severe' category. The perinatologist we consulted with yesterday was thankfully very direct with everything that we needed to be told, including that it would be unfair of her to instill any false hope in us that this might get better, or that this baby might be ok. Very best case at this point, he will make it to birth, a shunt will be placed, and he will live with moderate developmental delays. But that is the very best case, and not the most likely. We do know that if he lives to and through birth that there will be impairments, possibly on a very serious level. The dr did specifically mention that babies that proceed along the level of fluid retention that our baby is currently at have a very difficult time through the newborn period.

We do not know if by some miracle his ventricle enlargement will stay stagnant or if it will do as expected and increase. If it increases (which is what will most likely happen) we do not know if it will do so at a slow and gentle pace, or it if will increase rapidly and exponentially. Currently the pressure is causing his brain tissue to be compressed against the outer edges of his skull. What this means for his little developing brain we do not know. All of the proper and expected parts of his brain are there, and are developed correctly at this time, but the fluid is already at a level that is affecting the way his brain is sitting, and may be causing the sides of his brain to not sit separate from each other. We can see the division between the right and left brain below and above the fluid, but where the fluid sits in the greatest amount the division between the halves of his brain disappears.

One of the hardest parts of hydrocephalus is that it is not really a definitive diagnosis the way many other things are. As the dr mentioned yesterday, when you have a club foot or a cleft palate, you know what is wrong, and you know what to do to fix it. With hydrocephalus you know what the main problem is, but you don't know how bad it will get, you don't know up front what the cause is, or how it will alter the baby's existing brain structure. The only way to tell is to wait and to watch.

We will have our first follow-up in three weeks to see how much things have changed. Depending on the overall increase in fluid and pressure, the rate of the increase, and how it is affecting his brain tissue, we will decide if the next appointment will be sooner than three additional weeks or if we can safely wait four weeks until we check again. There may be an amnio involved in the coming weeks just to rule out any chromosomal causes, though there were no indications seen through ultrasound that this may be caused by that.

Ironically, every other part of his little body is absolutely perfect.

We are so very grateful for the outpouring of love and support that we have received over the past few days. Though receiving news like this could never be easy, I know that there is a reason that we are experiencing this now. Our family and friends and neighbors, our church family, the very close knit community in which we live; the experiences we have seen friends endure, those who have lost children themselves or live with the challenges of children with special needs... the support network that we have is nothing short of a miracle. So many have offered prayers in our behalf in recent days, for which we will be eternally grateful. We have been lifted up and comforted and blessed by your faith. Thank you.

Though the coming days, months, and hopefully years will not be easy, we are grateful that our Heavenly Father trusts us to bring this sweet little spirit into our family. We know that we will be carried through the hard days, and that he has a plan for us. There will be sadness, there will tears. But we know that there will be joy and comfort and blessings that we cannot imagine at this time.

I have never been more grateful in my life for the things that I know are real, the things that are important....to actually know and not just believe. For a knowledge of the existence of a loving Heavenly Father who knows each of us. For a knowledge that our Savior Jesus Christ lives, and that through him life beyond this earth is possible. For the knowledge that families are eternal, and that despite what happens with this baby, no matter how long or short his life on this earth is, that we will be with him again.

The timing of this all in relation to Easter, and to General Conference is such a comfort-we anxiously await the beautiful spirit of hope and love that will be abundant as we focus on our Savior's life and resurrection at this time.

And then life changes in a matter of minutes

3/26/2010

Yesterday afternoon was our "big" ultrasound. Twenty four hours ago I was stopping at a drive through for a very large lime squeeze, in order to satisfy the instructions to arrive "with a very full bladder", and hoping that the sugar would inspire this little one to be active enough to give us a good shot and confirm his gender.

(we cheated and paid for an elective u/s at 15 weeks. We were quite sure it was a boy, but confirmation is always good)

Our ultrasound was done by someone still in training. A cute girl named Barb. Which was ironic considering that all over our previous u/s were done by a sonographer named Brad. Their names were close. Aaron thought it was weird that I noticed.

Anyway, Barb is in her last semester of training, so she let us know that she would do pictures and measurements, and then another u/s tech would come in and look over her work and do more pictures and measurements to make sure everything lined up ok.

So from the beginning we knew it would be a longer than normal u/s experience for us, but that was fine. Who is going to complain about seeing their baby a little longer?

With someone in training, as well as a follow up, we didn't question the fact that it lasted an hour and a half and that there were more measurements and picture than we were used to. When it was all done they let the head Radiologist know that it was done, and took the info to him so he could sign off on the report. They let me know he would transfer it to my midwife, and she should have it by early next week.

Normal.

I left the hospital with my biggest concern being the fact that this little boy was measuring nearly two full weeks ahead, and wondering if he would continue to grow at that rate. I don't grow big babies, so delivering a big baby is a daunting thought.

I drove home blissfully unaware and stopped to pick up some egg rolls since I hadn't been able to eat much of anything all day (a handful of Lucky Charms and some fruit leather). Chinese food sounded good.

And it was good.

And it was the last bit of good I'd get for a while.

Just minutes after I walked in the door returning home, the phone rang. It was my midwife. She told me that there were concerns with the ultrasound results and that the Radiologist was bringing her the report. She asked if we could meet her back at her office to discuss things instead of doing it over the phone.

I'm not dumb.

The fact that a report that usually finds itself over to your care provider a few days after the u/s was being taken directly to her was not good news. The fact that she wanted to talk in person was even worse. Then she mentioned that the Radiologist had called her before I even left the hospital and wanted to send me directly to her office, but she wasn't even in the office. She was going in to meet us there.

Though the information we have at this point is fairly vague, what we know at this point is that baby has Hydrocephalus. Likely it is from aqueductal stenosis, which is a blockage near the brain stem. As we sat discussing this with the midwife, she apologized that she didn't know more. That since this may become a high risk situation, she obviously does not deal with this regularly. That she couldn't tell us whether this meant that baby would die in utero, or be still born or die shortly after birth, or if it means a term pregnancy with few complications or many, or what it may mean for baby if it lives after birth.

It is a lot to swallow.

The next step for us is further testing; a more detailed ultrasound with a perinatologist, consultation with a high risk obstetrician, and possible amniocentesis. We of course tried to get in for the next u/s with Maternal Fetal Medicine at a larger facility within a day or so....the earliest we can be seen is Wednesday. It will be a long wait.

Of course we have done as much research as possible in the past day. We have seen a lot of best case scenarios, and plenty of worst case scenarios, with much more in between. At this point until we can determine the cause, whether or not is is due to a chromosomal abnormality, which type of hydrocephalus we are dealing with, the extent of the swelling at it's current level and how it changes over the coming weeks, we are facing a whole lot of nothing. We do not know what the coming weeks, months and years may bring. We do not know what this will involve for me, this baby, or the rest of our family.

I am riding a roller coaster of emotions that I've not experienced before. Fear, frustration, sadness, guilt, jealousy, anger, loss....most of all uncertainty. Like I'm standing in front of a cliff, but not knowing how many steps in front of me the edge is, or just how far the fall might be.

We did get a bit of better news later last night; my midwife called to let us know that she had spoken with one of the obstetricians she works with and asked his experience with hydrocephalus babies. He told her that most (though she said that he used the word most "gingerly") babies turn out ok, requiring a shunt shortly after birth and leading a relatively normal life. She said that depending on head growth and fluid levels, there is still at least some chance that I will be able to delivery this baby vaginally and avoid a c-section. For most people that is not big deal, but having had the birth experiences that I have, the thought of having my baby surgically removed from my body is devastating. I know it's a selfish concern at this point and there are people who will hate me for even having had that thought, but at this point I am grasping to retain any sense of normalcy and routine regarding this pregnancy.

I desperately want to drown my emotions in food, but I have no appetite.

I desperately want to go for a long run and just push one foot in front of the other until I can't take another step, but I feel like the life has been sucked out of me. I have no energy.

Most of all I desperately want to have woken up this morning to find that yesterday was just a bad dream. Instead I woke up after a fitful night to the words hydrocephalus and aqueductal stenosis echoing in my head while my baby jumped around seemingly mocking the thoughts running through my head. I've never in my life appreciated so much the movement of a child inside me.

I am a fairly private person when it comes to big things. If I had my way I would lock myself away from the world and not talk to anyone about any of this until I know something more. I fear people telling me "don't worry, it'll be ok", and that I'll not respond kindly because how can you say that when you don't know? I don't want to be the sympathy case. I was watching a documentary the other day (on pregnancy ironically) and the filmmaker said "Everyone wants the excitement of drama in their lives." I would give anything for lack of "excitement" right now. I don't want to talk about it right now when I don't even know what to say. My husband deals with things the opposite way...wanting to talk to everyone despite having nothing much to say. That is proving interesting. I figure this will be the closest I can get to not actually talking about it, but relieving from him the burden of not being able to talk about it because I don't want to tell anyone.

I also can't help but think how much easier this must be when it's your first child. You have nothing to compare it to. You only have to be strong for yourself and your spouse, you only have to worry about how it will affect your life. I am trying to figure out how in the world we even begin to talk about this with our children. How much do we tell them? How much will they understand? What do we even tell them? How will this change their lives? I am glad that they are used to me having to head to the bathroom every 30 minutes...and grateful that my youngest kids that are not in school are occupied enough with life that they don't notice puffy red eyes after my frequent "bathroom breaks".

For now we wait. Five long days we wait, and hope that the arrival of next Wednesday and another ultrasound will bring us at least one more little piece of information. Something to indicate in some way just what we may be facing. We search for a balance of optimism and realism. We hope. We pray.

The BIG one

You know, the big ultrasound. The official "I've waited for this day to find out how this baby is doing since the day that second line popped up" ultrasound.

Off we go to the ultrasound this afternoon.

Then we'll spread the "what is it?" news. We've known for a number of weeks now (obviously), but you know, reassurance isn't a bad thing.

Making sure it's still a boy. I'll be worried if something fell off and it's not!

18 weeks.....still sick....

Almost every single day. All day.

The girl with the endless appetite is missing that appetite. Random handfuls of random foods are sad. Lucky Charms are always good, but when it's a handful here and there, and the thought of chasing it down with some ham fried rice and egg rolls is appealing....well, that's just plain scary.

Will I ever feel better?

I have always had respect for the women who have hyperemesis and go through pregnancy multiple times. Those who count a successful day as one where they vomit less than a dozen times. Let's be real-my being sick is squat compared to that. But every day that I wake up still feeling sick at nearly half way through this pregnancy, I admire them more and more.

Despite the lack of regular eating, here comes the belly. Up a little in TP squares this week to about 8 1/3 squares.

(though for the record, in my opinion, still not a random rubdown worthy belly)

Dear body:

We are nearly halfway through this pregnancy. Can we please move past this "morning" sickness phase?

Thankyouverymuch.

17 weeks

Oh my word-it's growing. A LOT.

Thankfully it's mostly only noticeable at night. And good thing I wear clothes all day.

The good old at home measurement indicator shows growth. You know, the toilet paper wrap. Up to 8 1/4 squares. And this time I can't blame bloating.

Technically, I'm measuring way ahead. Like 4wks ahead.

If I didn't know there was only one in there I'd worry that there's more than one in there.

On the other hand the fact that there's only one in there worries me even more.... I have never, NEVER measured ahead before. I usually measure a couple of weeks behind. My biggest baby was 7lbs 5oz. The rest were around 6 1/2lbs. I'd prefer to keep it that way. The thought of a big baby scares me to death.

Besides, my babies only stay little for a couple of weeks. Then they chunk up super fast and nearly double their birth weight by 2 months.

Please let this baby not be big. Please!

The incident

Ok, so I know I'm growing sooner than I usually do. I know my belly is showing more than it usually does at this point.

But let's be honest here, I'm really not showing that much. In fact, at this point I'm thinking that even if I wasn't pregnancy, I'd still be looking pretty darn good for someone with seven kids!

If I do say so myself.

Normal jeans, still my smallest jeans, not even a hairband to hold them together where a button is undone at the top. Nope, still zipped and buttoned, and still breathing easily in them.

yay for that!

So imagine my surprise when this morning someone stopped by my house for a minute, proceeded to grab my midsection and rub wildly proclaiming, "wow! look at you!"

Uh, excuse me?

A-I'm not cool with people touching me. If you wouldn't put your hands on me when I'm not pregnant, don't put your hands on me when I am. Or good crimeny, at least wait until there is a big round belly and for pete's sake, ASK!!

B-Still sick, especially in the am. Rubbing the midsection means I'm likely to vomit on you. Seriously.

C-Is there really a belly there? One that would encourage the question "when are you due?", let alone a rub down?

I thought maybe I was in denial. So I snapped a shot moments after she left. (yes, it's blurry)

Yay? Nay?

Sure, things are getting a little soggy around the middle, the waistline is disappearing and I'm filling out. But a belly?

Maybe I am in denial, but I'm thinking not so much.

While I wouldn't ever just rub someone's belly anyway, I certainly wouldn't think to do so if she looked like that.

*sigh*

One of these days I'll be brave enough to rub someone's belly back.

Maybe.

A Wild Little One!

At 16 weeks and change there are plenty of people who aren't even feeling their baby move yet. During a couple of my pregnancies that has been the case for me.

Apparently I'm growing a super active one in there this time.

Heaven help us.

Not only did I start feeling movement earlier than with any of my others (12 weeks), last night hubby felt baby moving already! Hello! Not usually something that happens for a few more weeks.

Baby was being so jumpy that I though I'd give it a shot. My hand was on my belly and I couldn't quite tell if I was just really feeling it on the inside or if I was actually feeling it outside too. So I grabbed my husband's hand and put it right over baby.

"Do you feel that?!"

Not 3 seconds passed when he said "Oh yeah! It's faint out here still, but I feel it!"

And there you have it. Yet one more child who is trying to outdo it's siblings. And getting a very early start at it.

16 weeks (a little late)

I'm a few days behind. Life gets that way sometimes.

16 glorious weeks. The "fun time" in pregnancy. Well, at least today is more fun than yesterday. And yesterday was actually better than the day before. Haven't puked in a couple of days, definitely progress!! I may actually be turning that corner into second trimester bliss after all.....

(unless I just jinxed myself)

I am growing-BOY am I growing!

I mostly can't suck it in anymore. I'm a bit nervous as this is about what I looked like at 22-24wks during my last pregnancy. Hopefully that won't mean that at 31weeks this time I will look like I did at 39 weeks last time...I don't think my body could grow bigger than that for those additional weeks!

I mean, you can only blow up a balloon and deflate it so many times before you blow it up and it pops. God bless a willing and cooperative uterus!

Pregnancy brain is kicking into full swing-I have caught myself putting milk in the pantry twice in the past week. Good times! Thankfully I've caught it. Also thankfully my little minions open the pantry and the cupboards enough times throughout the day and at frequent enough intervals that if I should actually put it there and not notice, I should be able to catch the mistake before it's too late.

I'm up about 6 pounds now, not too bad, though a little more than normal for me at this point. Obviously I've used all day grazing to help cope with the sick all day feeling! The good news is that even if I do gain a pound a week from this point on I'll only be around 30lbs up in the end. I can deal with that!

Things that bug me more than usual when I'm pregnant, take 2

Idiot drs. Drs who fear covering their own butts more than advocating for and supporting what a patient wants.

For example:

In one of the pregnancy communities in which I post, there was a woman who was due to deliver her baby soon. After a cesarean section with her last birth, she was planning for a VBAC this time around. The dr wanted to check baby's position and see if all was good to go, so last week she had an ultrasound. They guessed the baby's weight at 9lbs 13oz.

**Note: It is a widely published and commonly accepted fact that ultrasounds in late pregnancy are often 2lbs (or more!!) off in estimation of weight.**

After this woman had her ultrasound, her dr gave her some news. To quote her, "I had planned and had my heart set on a VBAC, but my dr is very concerned that I would definitely rupture with a baby being almost a 10 pounder and my daughter was so small. So, I go in on Monday to have a scheduled c-section. Doctor thinks that by Monday she will probably be over 10lbs."

She did indeed have her c-section on Monday, and the baby came out at a whopping......are you ready for it? Wait..wait........7 pounds, 11 ounces.

Oh yeah, well over 10lbs. Now not only does she get to recover from having a baby, while meeting the needs of a newborn (and her other child), she also gets to recover from major abdominal surgery.

Idiot dr.

This is not a stance on VBACs (though there are too many drs who don't support women who are interested in them, and who actually are good candidates for them, not to mention the hospitals that say they "don't allow" them....), this is a stance on Drs not supporting their patients because they are too afraid of covering their back sides. But in this particular case there is no reason that a trial of labor would have been dangerous, especially since any dr worth anything knows how far off those late pregnancy ultrasounds often are.

This is also a stance against the overwhelming number of women who just blindly follow whatever their dr tells them. "He/She's the dr, they are the one who went to medical school, not me", is often the reason. But you know what? Drs don't know everything. There's a reason it's called "practicing medicine". There are some drs who still prescribe to the notion that all women must stay in bed throughout labor and must deliver on their back while being coached through pushing. Some who perform routine episiotomies just because. And some who are just whack-jobs.

I was one of those women who just went along with whatever the dr said and whatever the infamous "What to Expect" book dictated should be happening at that particular time. I don't remember exactly when or why I decided to start taking more responsibility for myself and my medical care, but I found that once I did, it garnered a lot of respect from the medical professionals I worked with. Thankfully I had an exceptional and competent dr during those blindly follow along days, I fear to think where I may have ended up were that not the case. I miss him.

I do know that I wouldn't have even thought to change drs this pregnancy had I not started taking charge of my care. I would have just stayed with the dr I saw for my first prenatal exam this time, just because that's where I had already started this pregnancy.

I can't even begin to explain how reassuring it is to know exactly what's going on during pregnancy, labor and birth, and to not wonder what the nurses or dr are going to do next. I am the one calling the shots. If things happen to take a turn for the worst, that is why I have chosen to hire the medical professionals that I have-because they have proven that they can be trusted with my care, and that's when I'm willing to default to they "they are the ones who went to med school" reasoning. If I encounter a situation that I am not equipped or educated to handle-that's why they are there. Not to run my pregnancy and make my choices for me.

I did so good for so long....

And then today my body decided to just not fight it anymore.

12 weeks. 12 full weeks I've fought throwing up. Despite being sick every day, I've held it down through all the gagging and heaving.

Gullet of steel, I'm tellin' ya.

It takes a lot of work to choke back vomit that many times and for that many weeks.

(I really don't like throwing up.)

And so it is sadly funny and incredibly ironic that today, the day before I hit 16 weeks, well after I should be past this stage, my body finally said "enough already!"

The vomit won.

Happy 16 weeks tomorrow. *blech*

Jump!

I was sitting here today and entered the next level.

The baby jumped!

Feeling a baby move, whether small or big movements, for the first time or the hundredth, is an amazing thing.

Going from little flutters that are faint and fleeting to that first bigger more jerky movementis just plain exciting though.

I love it when I am able to start feeling baby more often and more easily. It is such a treat! And such a wonderful reminder of why the fact that I've been sick as a dog every day for three months (and am still sick on nearly a daily basis) is totally worth it. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was unmistakable.

I'm sure I'll have those moments that always come where I lament the fact that my baby has yet again jammed it's foot under my rib and prevented me from breathing easily, or is punching away at my insides and presumably attempting to stage a jailbreak by jamming it's fist directly through my cervix.

But hey, I'll take it!

It's a........

Baby!

Well, ok, we already knew that.

But it's a cute baby. Look at that face.

You should know I only make cute babies.

Also, this cute baby is of the boy variety.

A very lucky little boy. Everyone else (yes EVERYONE else) in my neighborhood is having a girl this year. Everyone due from January (which obviously they already arrived) to July is having a girl. That ought to be fun in about 16 years.

Hey, somebody had to break the pink streak. And if you know us, it's really not the least bit surprising that we are the ones to do so.

Also, this means my husband was right about me being so sick for so long that it couldn't be anything other than a boy. Yep, almost 15 weeks and still sick every day. Good times.

We had a girl name narrowed down to two, that were somehow just automatic choices because other than one small 3 minute conversation we haven't even talked names at all.

And since we haven't talked names at all, that means starting from scratch for a little boy. 5th time around for a boy name....oh dear.....