This baby is getting bigger. We had a midwife appointment a couple of days ago and my fundal height is 25.5cm, so I’m measuring about a week ahead. The heartrate was up over 160, although at the 20 week appointment it was at 150. As for me, I have gained a grand total of 11 pounds so far, which is actually not super high. Of course, I gained 6 in the first 20 weeks and 5 in the last 4 weeks, so I may be picking up steam.

My books tell me that the baby weighs over a pound now, and is almost 12 inches long. There’s been a real growth spurt in the past few weeks as the kicks have moved from my belly button up to my ribs. I don’t really look much bigger, but I feel much bigger. Bending over is starting to be a challenge. And everything’s shifted upwards, as my budding soccer star has shot up. Here’s how I’m looking right now:

Jon and I have chosen baby names. We’re actually pretty casual about the process. I come up with a list of 10 or so names each for a boy or a girl, and then run them past him. Then, together, we come up with selections that we can both live with. We chose Hannah’s name while we were watching the Athens Olympics, when I was only about 2 months pregnant. This time around we waited longer – we chose our names a month or so ago.

Our system is not without its flaws. The boy’s name that we chose when I was pregnant with Hannah lost its appeal to me by the time I reached the end of my pregnancy. Luckily, Hannah was a girl and so I dodged that bullet. Still, I’m not sure that if we’d spent months and months agonizing and debating that we could have made better choices. And, at heart, I’m a planner so I’m very happy to have names chosen early. What I’m saying is, I know this wouldn’t work for many people, but it works for us.

So, what do we consider when choosing baby names? Originality or uniqueness are not really factors for us. My name is fairly common now. And Jon, well, let’s just say that if I call his name in a crowded place no less than half a dozen men turn their heads in my direction. We’re also not looking to honour a particular cultural heritage or carry on a family tradition. Instead, we’re looking for names that will be easy to pronounce and spell, especially given the multicultural community we live in. We’re also looking for time-tested names that people will be familiar with, to prevent future teasing and embarassment.

Taking those criteria into account, what have we chosen this time around? We have unintentionally settled on two Old Testament names, which is funny because Hannah is also an Old Testament name that we chose for other reasons. So, they’re time-tested and people will know how to spell and pronounce them. They’re both pretty common, too. And we’re not aware of anyone else in our circle of family or close friends who has used them. What are they? Jacob for a boy, and Abigail for a girl.

We’re happy with our choices. Jon stipulated that he be allowed to refer to little Abigail as ‘Abby Jr’ – the nickname of Abbotsford Junior Secondary, the school where we met almost 20 years ago. Since that’s no worse than many a joke nickname parents give their children I agreed, and we’re settled. Now we just have to wait and find out which it will be, and who this little person is that is doing all that kicking. I can’t wait to find out.

Pregnancy is a funny time. Something is clearly going on – I can’t stand up quickly anymore, I’m slowing down, and there’s a little person doing somersaults in my belly. Change is afoot, and yet, nothing has really changed. I can go about my day, doing all the things I normally do, without a single thought of the impending baby. Sure, I occasionally feel a jab or bump into something with my ever-expanding midsection, but it’s more of an afterthought than something I take into consideration at any given moment.

I didn’t feel this way last time. When I was pregnant with Hannah I really thought that things had changed already. I clearly didn’t understand what life is like as a parent. Now that I have a real-life walking, talking child to take care of my universe has truly shifted. When I was waddling around and buying receiving blankets I was only anticipating change.

My fears are different this time around, too. With my first baby I was worried about lots of stuff, some of which seems pretty funny in retrospect. I wondered if I would be a good parent. I was terrified of sleep deprivation. I had some concerns about labour, and a fair few worries about the cat. I wondered how I would make mom friends. I wasted a lot of concerns over baby gear. I lived in constant fear that the baby would not be OK.

I do still have some of the same fears, mostly that the baby will be OK. I also have a few worries about labour, although this time they’re less about how the baby arrives than where Hannah will be and how she will handle the separation if I require hospitalization. I’m not at all worried about baby gear, I have mom friends, and the cat can fend for herself as long as we clean the kitty litter and feed her. I have strategies to deal with sleep deprivation, and I know that the early days don’t last forever. But now I have lots of fears about having two children.

The fact is, lots of the time I barely make it through the day with my 3-year-old. When everyone is cranky and hungry and we’ve already met our daily TV quota, things can get pretty hairy. When I’m at the library and my kid takes off past the book theft prevention sensors, and I’m left yelling for her to come back with an armful of books that haven’t been checked out yet, I wonder how I will possibly manage when I also have a baby to wrangle. I content myself by remembering that I am certainly a competent parent, and lesser people than I have managed, but I still can’t see how I’m going to make this work, how I will get through every day without losing my grip.

I know that others struggle with real issues every day, and many of my fears are sort of petty. I know that if I have two normal healthy children I will be very blessed indeed, and dealing with life’s daily slings and arrows is not exactly monumental work. Still, I know (and now that I have a child I really know) that the rug is about to be pulled out from under me, and I do want to prepare. I am a planner by nature, and this, this very big thing, feels like it needs a Very Big Plan. But you can’t really plan, because that’s not what having babies is about. Having babies is about taking what each day hands you and making the best of it. Having babies is about recognizing that this too shall pass, and that you will one day be wondering where the time went as you walk through an empty house. And mostly, it’s about having faith that no matter how woefully unprepared you really are, no matter how many mistakes you make, your little family will be OK as long as you all do your best and stick together.

So far it really has been OK, and very few of the fears that I had during my first pregnancy came true. With any luck I will find exactly the same thing this time around.