The day before I found out Andrea was pregnant, I had a very strange dream. In my dream, I woke up late one morning to find out that Andrea had just delivered a perfectly healthy baby boy – a creepy-looking miniature version of myself. She didn’t want to wake me up for the birth because she wanted me to sleep in. How considerate. What’s more, she had already named the baby: Merlin Nolan Alba. The name sounded perfect in my dream!
So that’s what we call our muffin: Merlin. Giving it a name is just so much better than calling it “it.”
Anyway, we haven’t heard from Merlin in a while and it’s driving me nuts. Andrea’s not showing, she’s not sick, her boobs don’t hurt, she hasn’t gained weight, and we have no outside indication that Merlin is actually growing inside of her. The last time Merlin presented himself was at the ultrasound where we were surprised by the heartbeat. Since then, nothin’.
I wish we could get an ultrasound every week, or that I could peer inside Andrea’s uterus and make sure everything’s ok. It’s a little maddening.
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