So yesterday, I wrote this blog. Not this particular one, but a blog. And I wrote it at 6 in the morning. And it was a long one. And I was excited to post it.

But then I didn't.

Do you know why I didn't post it?

I do.

Let me explain it to you.

I had been up since 2:30 the night before. 2:30. With none other than contractions. Not a sick kid, not back pain(well, ok, some back pain), not just Pregnancy insomnia, but actual, real, pain in the ass contractions.

So, at 5 AM I made my way from my bed to the couch, where I assumed(YES, I know what assuming does to you!) I would be more comfortable while I waited for my contractions to get closer together and stronger.

I mused at how special it would be for Zach and his little baby boy to share the same birthday.

I was excited to get to go to the hospital all on my own, without a scheduled induction and a hospital room already waiting for me.

I teared up a little bit at the thought of adding another little bundle of joy to our small and perfect family.

I wondered at how much hair he would have and what his face would look like. Would this little man come out looking like my great big trucker of an uncle John just like my girls? Or would he get the blessing of starting out like his daddy?

And then I thought maybe this would be the first little baby I didn't cry over because of the way they looked coming out. (I'll explain more on this later, because it sounds really superficial so far, but you just wait. I may even post pictures!)

But then. Nothing.

The contractions subsided and turned into this just constant and miserable pain. And I never went into real labor. Eventually I got to take a nap. Zach even on his birthday was sweet enough to take care of the girls while I tried to catch up on a little bit of sleep.

So here we are today. Still pregnant. Imagine how disappointed I was going to bed in my own bed still pregnant last night.

Although, I do have to say, today is a better day than yesterday. We had Zach's birthday party with his family yesterday, well and my family too. And so I asked my mom to pick up some raspberry tea.

Thank the Lord she did because at least I'm not miserable anymore. Well, ok. I'm at a tolerated misery.

I was hoping it would do the trick to kick me into labor too, but so far, no luck. With Stella that was what finally worked! Raspberry tea.

But with this little one it just stops the constant contraction like cramping. The FAKE contraction like cramping.

And now I only have two days left and so I can relax in knowing that baby will come. I will not be pregnant forever. Zach had a fantastic birthday weekend celebrating with friends and family. And somehow I had the house cleaned continuously and homemade food to serve at every function, and wrapped presents to give him and still have a really good time!

Plus it all happened before the snow! The snow that is literally piling it's way up to the tops of our cars. Now of course I won't see him probably until the baby is born, but at least the snow is scheduled to stop before we go in on Wednesday!

None of that would have been possible had I had the baby when I wanted to. I suppose things are working for us instead of directly against everything I thought I could possibly put up with(Pregnancy wise and what not.)

We might have a 12 pound baby in the end, but.... we'll just have to wait and see. Cross that bridge when we come to it, so to speak.

So anyways. Now that we've got that covered, let me retrace my steps and explain a little about why I would cry(Cry the sad bad tears) when my first little beautiful baby girls were born.

Lets start with Scarlett because I didn't really cry that much with her. I just felt so bad for her. Her face came out super, super, super bruised. The poor thing was all blue and black. When we moved from labor and delivery to the room you stay in for the rest of the time, the nurses on that floor actually thought poor little Scarlett couldn't breath. They started to run out of the room to grab help and we had to stop them and assure them that she was ok, just bruised!

But on top of that, she looked just like my Uncle John. The spitting Image.

My Uncle John passed away when I was in sixth grade.

But. Let me tell you about him. He was my dad's oldest brother and was 62 or something when he died. He was this huge, man who smoked all of his life. He lived in Fairbury, Nebraska which is a tiny little town in the south east corner of Nebraska and a Trucker, he had been a trucker almost all of his adult life. Please apply ALL stereotypes! His face was super full and I don't have a picture I can put on here, I just need you to all go to this image with me.

So when my little precious girl came out looking just like that. You can imagine how I felt.


Although with Scarlett, I had seen the face before. I had been through the whole trauma of delivering my 62 year old, smoking-trucker of a dead uncle and could recover quicker.

With Stella. It wasn't so easy.

I mean seriously, I've been imagining what my children would look like since I was a little girl(All girls do, come on.). I imagined this sweet, angelic face with pretty blond hair and dainty, but long fingers so she could play the piano. I imagined a tiny, little petite thing that had my eyes and Zach's smile.

What I got was a giant Eskimo of a child, covered in dark, black hair, literally from head to toe, that did not even appear to be Caucasian, and was the spitting image of my Uncle John. I half expected her to stand up and leave the room in search of donuts and a place for a smoke break.

Not to mention the assumption she would be a little 7 pounder was shattered when she weighed in at a stunning 10 lbs. 3 oz.

I just kept crying and apologizing to Zach, "I'm so sorry, she looks just like my Uncle John, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

It's not that she wasn't cute. She was ADORABLE. And the easiest, sweetest baby. She started sleeping through the night at 3 weeks old. I'm telling you, the bigger the baby the easier they are. And I absolutely loved that she had so much hair, even if I am still trying to rub it off her shoulders and lower back and she will be the only kindergartner allowed to shave her legs and pluck her eyebrows....

And Zach has a very prominent line of Native American on his side of the family, which explained why she looked like a Samoan Indian.

But things were just a little different than what I had expected.

Plus, have you seen her now? I mean, come on, she's gorgeous! :)

Not that I'm biased or anything.

They both are.

Scarlett's face has healed, and even if she has the personality of a boxer, she at least doesn't have the face of one anymore.

It's just so funny how they look when you finally meet them. And I am SO completely anxious to meet this little one and see what he looks like.

We know he has a lot of hair, but how much?

Will he finally look like a Higginson from birth or keep the Uncle John theme going. Oh, I should say too that I'm not the only one in my family that has kids that look like him! I have three cousins out in California and ALL of their children came out looking like him too! They said they went through the same thing, like why does my child look like Uncle John??? They are the kids of my dad's youngest brother.

There are so many questions, it's hard to wait. But I guess we will have to!
This is Stellas baby picture! See? I exaggerate not.

And her is little Scarlett, bruised face and all!

But they came together nicely.
And so I have the same hope for this one!!


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