Thursday, October 30, 2014

last dance

So this kid has a dance party starting every evening at about 4 p.m.  Sometimes she settles down at about 8, and sometimes she doesn't stop until after midnight. And now that she's a lot bigger, her John Travolta moves are perceptible to people other than just me--when she sticks her leg straight out, my belly looks a little like one of those old-school cartoons where the character gets hit over the head and the bump protrudes like a unicorn horn. Or my entire belly contorts into odd shapes. No joke.

Today is no different. In fact, she just sort of rolled over under my skin. I will never get used to that feeling, but I would never want to. I am going to miss that so much later when she's on the outside and it'll take more than a few soothing words and a reassuring rub to get her to settle down.

Today is also her official due date. And I'm still pregnant.

Here we are, the people whom the doctors thought would be lucky to be on this side of 24, 28, 30, 32, 37 weeks; WE ARE AT FULL TERM. That's 280 days. And something I never expected.  Despite the fact that no matter what anyone said, I always replied, "We're going all the way to 40! Plus one day, so she can come out on Halloween, her father's birthday." I was banking on it, but didn't *really* think it could happen. I never did get him a present, but now I don't have to. I could never top this.

I went to the doctor today and she said there's no point in letting Baby go past her due date. I'm 4 cm dilated, 100% effaced. In the office, the doctor stripped my membranes (basically detached the bag of waters from the uterus), which can sometimes get the process going. And, in case she doesn't feel like coming out on her own, the doctor scheduled us to show up tomorrow--Halloween, her father's birthday--at 7:15 a.m. to be induced.

So it's going to happen. Like, for real. I am still sort of in shock that by this time tomorrow, I'm going to be somebody's MOTHER. Like in charge of her well being. Like having to make decisions for her. Holy crap.

Wish me luck!

Bed rest, I will not be missing you.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

beyond expectations

So we are here at week 37. I can't believe it. And yet, I don't want this baby to come out yet.

There haven't been very many worry-free weeks (none, actually), and from what I gather about parenthood there never will be again. You're not *safe* after 12 weeks, 20 weeks, 24 weeks, 32 weeks or even 37 weeks of pregnancy. You're not *safe* at labor or when the kid is a toddler or a sixth-grader or a college freshman. Hell, you're not even *safe* when your kid has her own wedding, mortgage and career. So I guess worrying is going to be a part of life. Good thing I have so much practice.

This is going to sound mommy-blog cheesy, but I actually enjoy being pregnant. Even with all the puking and the stitch-pulling and bed rest and Dennis the Tricky Hip, it's pretty mindblowing to think there's a person in here whose favorite color might be yellow and favorite music might be rockabilly and favorite pastime could be lacrosse (all things I'm going to have to learn to appreciate). But she's inside me, bouncing around like nobody's business, and completely out of my control.

Other people see my belly randomly contorting into weird shapes and bulging out not of my will and tell me that they wish they could feel that feeling again. I know what they mean. I wish I could bottle this up and save it for when she goes away to college and I'm sitting in her bedroom and feeling lonely. I'd open it up, savor the exciting alien feeling and then whine to Jon about how quickly the time has gone.

But I've always been this way: During those three years when Jon and I were dating long distance, I'd start to get sad as soon as he got off the plane--pre-mourning the weekend together that would be over much too soon.

I feel like I've wasted so much of my life blinking.

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Bonus post: Why I will never learn to like baseball

Jon is downstairs screaming his head off at the Dodgers. The other night when they lost, he lost his voice and did not sleep all night. I'm just waiting for the neighbors to call the cops one of these days--they probably think someone is getting beaten here, not just his favorite team on television.

week 36.5 and no baby in sight

So "strict bed rest" only lasted five days. And praise all that is lovely and good--I was going B-A-N-A-N-A-S truly not moving all day. Plus each day I was lying around watching DiY network and knitting and looking out the window was one fewer day I could use to spend with my kid after she comes out.

Went to see the doctor, and while I'm 2 cm dilated, there is no sign of baby yet. I am still holding out for a Halloween birthday (that she can share with her father). MD said I could go back to working from home.

Jon starts a new job next week, so he had planned to take this week off (I was supposed to have had the stitch removed this week). He is very busy building stuff for the nursery--today was the crib and cleaning everything. Yes, we are behind a "normal" expecting couple's schedule, but I have always done everything at the last minute. Plus much earlier than now, things were too tenuous.

I am caught up on watching Scandal and The Good Wife and will likely be starting Parenthood soon. I am also reading Jim Gaffigan's Dad is Fat, which has some very appropriate essays about being pregnant and having an infant. And funny. I feel guilty for not reading as much as I would have liked, but I can't multitask as much when reading--and I have become obsessed with multitasking.

Other than that, nothing new is going on. Hope all is well with you!