27 weeks....

So this pregnancy is on its final stretch. I am enjoying it quite a bit since this is the last time I will be pregnant. When they do my c-section I will also have them tie my tubes. That brings me sadness but I know that 3 is our number. But in the mean time I have been enjoying all of the kicks, flutters, and watching Erik observe my belly as she says hello to him. She...still cannot believe that one. Her nursery is now painted. Her clothes have begun to be hung up. My friend Kris brought over so many great things for us to use for her and I am very grateful. The nursery has gone from sparse looking to a little girls dream. The boys visit often from curiosity. I let them pretty much explore what they want with a firm,"Did you wash your hands?" Everything seems so delicate. I remind myself that this is just a baby. That she still is going to cry, poop, and spit up all over me but I picture it done with more grace. But in reality poop is poop. I feel guilty because we still have not named her. Nothing seems quite right or perfect enough. People put so much energy into figuring out a name. But have you ever said to anyone,"You know, I really don't like your name." No! Because once a person has a name that is who they are, you don't think of it any further than that. Their name is their name, period. So why can't we just pick one? Because it has to perfect.