Iza ny anaranao "chips"?

"Iza ny anaranao?" in official Malagasy is, loosely,"What is your name?" Literally, it is "Who the your name?" But that's neither here or there. What's funny about this particular phrase is how Waverly chooses to use it.

She doesn't know much Malagasy except some basics that Chandler and I have taught her: greetings, please (and thank you and excuse me - all one word in official), and how to ask for someone's name. Oh, and "Avia!" and "Mivoaka!" Commands we use with the dog and Waverly, in turn, uses with the kids she plays with...  Otherwise, we recognize our first language within the family and hope that she will pick up Malagasy in her interactions with the nationals. 

Unfortunately, this is more difficult than we hoped and she hasn't learned anymore than what we've taught her; hence her incorrect, but hilarious, usage of the question, "Iza ny anaranao?" For example, when she wants our day guard to make her a jump rope out of palm leaves, she asks him, "Azafady, Jean Claude, Iza ny anaranao jump rope?" Or when she wants to help our housekeeper mop the floor, "Azafady, Iza ny anaranao help?" 

But it will come. The longer we are here, the better she'll learn to communicate with those around her. For now, the communication barrier doesn't seem to bother her too much, especially since kids have the uncanny ability to communicate without words and still have a great time. 

For me, though, it's tough. My heart hurts for her and makes me miss her friends back home. And it makes me more anxious for the baby to come, for her to have a little one to grow up with who will understand her and our culture and language. At the same time, I think back on the last year and a half and all that we have been through together as a team of three. Chandler and I both agree that we've had a great three and a half years with just our girl. I blame it on the hormones that my emotions and feelings are so conflicting.

So, as a last "hurrah" as the Snyder family of three, we are doing at least one big family thing each week leading up to the baby's birth.

Last week we spent the afternoon at the beach.

We relaxed...

Played a little football...

Built various things...

And acted like goofballs...

It goes without saying that we had a wonderful day together and made great memories. My hope is, when days get hard for Waverly, be it because of her baby brother or sister getting all of the attention or her want for friends, that she will look back on these days and know that there were special times just for her.

On the pregnancy front: I am now almost 32 weeks along. And, although well into the third trimester, I'd like to have something recorded about the second trimester. 

Much like my pregnancy with Waverly, the second trimester wasn't much of a honeymoon as it is considered to be on all of the pregnancy websites. Only this time around, the three months of this trimester were caught up in the flurry of moving and stress of settling in to a new town, new routine, and new problems to overcome. I first felt baby kicks at the end of the first trimester; however, baby really got going in the second. No illness, no major physical complaints, and no problems sleeping! By the second trimester with Waverly, I was sleeping with a pillow between my knees and one under my belly and had constant issues with my hip falling asleep. Now, thanks to our fabulous Tempurpedic, I've only just recently run into problems sleeping and that's mostly because I have to go to the bathroom every few hours. :/ 

It's been interesting being pregnant in Madagascar. I fully expected to be assaulted at every turn with the women and children touching my belly; however, that's not been the case and for that, I am so so thankful. It would be a detriment to my Christian witness having to manhandle nationals for invading my personal space. 

It also never hurt a girl to have maternity clothes. With my first pregnancy, I was wearing dark colors and winter appropriate clothing. This time around, even though it's been winter here in Madagascar, I've had no need of the cold weather clothes, but I've made due and haven't raised a complaint because, by golly, nothing feels better to a pregnant momma than maternity pants. 

Only 2 1/2 weeks until Waverly and I fly to Johannesburg and after the day I've had today, the day couldn't come quick enough!

Bowties or Bows?

Still nobody knows. Well, we have no conclusive evidence.

At our 18 week appointment, the doctor hesitantly stated that the baby is a girl. However, without seeing boy parts or anything that would clearly indicate the baby as a girl, I take the stance that we don't know for sure. I mean, the baby's legs were crossed and I've thought since the very beginning that the baby is a boy, just like with my first pregnancy, I had no doubt she was a girl.

So, I figured we'd just have another ultrasound once we arrived here in Ft Dauphin. We met with the doctor on Monday and she informed us of a couple of things: 1. She wouldn't recommend anymore ultrasounds, than the initial and the mid-pregnancy ultrasounds, and 2. The machines here are old and not very clear.

I've come around to having peace with not knowing until the baby is actually born. It's eating Chandler up, though. So, if we have another ultrasound in Johannesburg, maybe we'll check it out again... Maybe not.

1st Trimester

My first trimester, and then some, is complete. Before I say anything else, I'll say this: it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Yeah, I was nauseous every day and exhausted beyond functioning every day, but it definitely could have been worse. 

I had my first prenatal appointment at 7 weeks along with an ultrasound. Then another prenatal appointment at 13 weeks with another ultrasound. I was ecstatic and relieved to see all of baby's essential parts; I.e., spine, legs, head, etc, but we did not get to see the gender. I am thankful for a great Brazilian doctor in the capital and another doctor in the States who has agreed to look over the notes and photos from each appointment, just so we can have peace of mind.

An unpleasant surprise for me was how quickly I began "showing". I was just 11 weeks and I was getting uncomfortable just having my pants buttoned. After not having seen our language tutor for a few days, her oh-so-kind greeting revolved around how I looked bigger, insinuating by patting her cheeks that I must be eating a lot. Not wanting to be equally rude, instead of responding with, "Pregnant! Duh!" I laughed it off and stewed about it later... Maybe even now... Just a little bit though...

So, here I am unable to wear any of my pants, with no maternity a clothes for at least another 3 weeks (when our crate is supposed to arrive from the States). I'm resigned to wearing jersey maxi skirts and feeling Amish, and some days like a Duggar.

For those who are wondering, we will deliver the baby in Johannesburg, South Africa. Waverly and I will head that way at the beginning of October. Until then, we will receive prenatal care here in country and are fortunate enough to have a South African doctor in Ft Dauphin who does mother/baby care. 

Waverly is warming up to the idea of a new baby. She continues to vehemently deny any possibility of a brother and most of the time, insists that the baby is hers. But we have to start somewhere, right? 

Speaking of Waverly, I'm sure this will come back to haunt me one day, until the day that she understands motherhood herself, but I'm actually more excited about this baby than I was with Waverly. Am I the only bad mom that feels that way? I mean, with Waverly I was excited, but I was totally clueless and anxious. This time, I at least have a general idea of what to expect during pregnancy, delivery, and when caring for a newborn. Of course, I'm not so naive to think that I've got it all figured out because I am fully expecting this next child to be diametrically opposed to Waverly: terrible sleeper, high maintenance, and with no sense of humor whatsoever. I figure that way, I can be pleasantly surprised if I'm wrong and mentally prepared if my theory proves correct. I'll let you know.

                                       

                                          15 weeks