Ben, a Brit, and Baby Houston #3

Happy New Year!

BEN

So in case you didn't know, I love Ben.

If you follow me on Instagram, you've heard about his visit. I just want to share the stupid things I had to deal with.
Once upon a time, I was pregnant with a little baby named Benjamin. During that time, certain genetics were passed on to him via mine and Andrew's genetics. Things like, hair color (mine), eye shape (mine), facial structure (Andrew's), ect. Since he was in my tummy, he also inherited certain taste buds from me (like his love of lemons which I ate constantly while prego) but those have since gone away and he now has his own.
Benjamin cannot inherit any of my behaviors or antics, likewise with Andrew. Those things would be learned behaviors, things that Ben might copy if he were to see us do it. I know this and have accepted that he'll never be like us, and for the most part that is a complete blessing. This world doesn't need another bi-polar rapist abuser like Andrew.

Once upon a time, we were all at Andrew's house for breakfast during Ben's visit. Ben was completely spoiled with attention, and train tracks from his abuela. As he was getting settled to play, he took off his socks and shoes. Just FYI, but that's totally normal. **Side note: my niece Kens looks at her feet funny whenever she has socks on because she doesn't understand where her feet went, it's adorable. Arizona babies are completely foreign to the cold.** Anyway, Andrew interjects as he sees Ben taking off his socks, and shares a completely irrelevant story about how he always sleeps with his right sock off (which is true, but totally irrelevant) and says "Oh he gets that from me."
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! How in the world would Ben get that from you dude? He doesn't watch you sleep. He's never even seen you for more than 3 hours in his life.

But don't worry, that uneducated-ness continues.

Randomly, in the middle of me and Joel playing trains with Ben, Andrew decides to ask Ann and Derek if Ben ever gets nose bleeds. Ann plays along perfectly as always and humors him, answering that YES Ben does get nose bleeds when he hits his face on the floor or the fridge when playing; which Ben does often because he's a child, and a boy. Andrew interjects once again with a irrelevant story about how he used to get nose bleeds whenever he snorted too much chlorine water at the pools (duh) and how Ben MUST also get that trait from him. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! Y'all he sounded so freaking dumb. And Ben's parents are too nice so they just play along. It was agonizing. I wanted to just tell him to shut up, but then I would look bad.

Later that morning, after Ben was crammed into his highchair while abuela kept attempting to feed him food that he didn't want anything to do with for an entire freaking hour **don't put two year olds in a highchair for an hour, they go crazy. Hell, I was going crazy.** Anyway, I was holding baby Nate, and trying to keep Ben happy while abuela was shoving food at him, and he looked at me and shook his head, so I shook mine back and it was just this cute little game of scrunch face giggling. And of course, Andrew had to interject and say "He definitely didn't get that from me!" OH MY GOOOOOOOODNESS. Someone tell me where his brain went.

Anyway, I hate him and he still drives me freaking mental.

A Brit

I have the bestest brothers in the whole world. I got a British GQ model as a brother when Krissy got married in June. He came to visit for a couple days and we took him to Seattle, and played video games, and made him repeat every thing he said so we could hear his accent again. We love him. Zachy is obsessed with him.

Baby Houston #3

At the beginning of December, I got another positive pregnancy test. We got the okay to try again a month after my surgery in August. I wasn't very optimistic about this baby; I don't trust the process anymore. On new years eve, Zach and I were going to go out. I got all showered and dressed up and my makeup was flawless (which never happens so I was really sad about that) but then I got super sick and ended up waiting for him to come home while laying on the bathroom floor. 

Then next day, my British brother came to town, and we took him out to Mizu: Japanese Steakhouse. It's. The. Bomb. Anyway, I couldn't eat because my stomach hurt. Then I felt the oh too familiar release of tissues and I left the lovely dinner show and ran to the bathroom. My mom came running in after me right as I burst into heartbreaking sobs at the amount of my pregnancy now in the toilet. 

In that moment, I wanted to die. My heart cannot take losing these three pregnancies after already losing Ben. My body is 100% perfect. My body is strong and my reproductive system is working perfectly. My progesterone levels were exactly where they should've been. "It's just a bad egg" or bad luck.... three times in a row. I'd love the excuse of "needing to heal from all the previous miscarriages" but I'm in perfect working order. Or maybe Zach could get checked, then I don't have to blame myself--but his body is also in perfect working order; I have absolutely no issues getting pregnant. 

Nothing is wrong. 

And yet everything is wrong.