History Lesson

I realized this week that it's almost exactly a year since we found out that the baby was a reality, went to the doctor and got it confirmed, and scheduled a first appointment with an obstetrician. Yes, it's also when we began our diabolical plot to hide that fact from everyone for several weeks until we got past the danger zone. But everyone found out, right?

At that point, we knew nothing (sometimes now we feel like we know less). We scoured books and blogs. We studied the week-by-week analyses on obsessive parenting websites. We got very excited. We got anxious and nervous. We counted pennies. We counted weeks. We read more books. "We" tried to get certain people to eat more fruits and vegetables.

And we had no idea how much our lives were about to be turned upside down.

Oh, one other note: Peanut wouldn't get its name until several weeks later. For the first few weeks, we just referred to "Baby." But that seemed silly, and we didn't at that point know the gender (that would be a later diabolical plot), so it was hard to come up with some other moniker. Then we went for the first sonogram (at 9 weeks) and saw this photo:

From Peanut's Blog

At that point in development, a baby is 50% head and 50% body, with a little indent between them. You know, like a peanut. So we decided that was a good name for the baby in utero. And I think we both imagined it would be a good nickname for a little girl until she turned 5 or 6, but oh well (I just feel bad for Cashew and Macadamia). We love Nicholas anyway. And he's not the same person as Peanut.