Grumpy and conflicted: the trials of being 400 months pregnant

countdown has begun
my prediction of early
oh so laughable

My due date is a week from tomorrow. My mom is flying into town today, my husband is off of work, everyone is on red alert.

Now we just sit and wait. There are still plenty of things to do to get ready (like, oh say, building the crib and decorating the nursery), but right now we really are just sitting and waiting. It’s like one of those scenes in a movie where two people sit on a sofa and two other people sit in chairs opposite the sofa. No one speaks and the only sound in the room is a clock ticking. Eventually a phone rings and everyone jumps up. One person shakily answers it and it’s… a carpet salesman.

Of course, things aren’t really quiet here – the wee one is hyped up with anticipation and irritation that no one wants to play Get Hit With My Sword all day long. And my hubby is doing a great job of getting the house ready. I’m really the only one just sitting here.

It’s funny because, as I sit here I can’t think of anything better than meeting my new gal and not being this huge and uncomfortable beast that I currently am. But then I get a wallop of a contraction and I suddenly remember what it entails to attain said gal and less uncomfortable frame, and, well, I’m not quite as anxious for it all to start as I was in the minutes before.

We actually spent most of the day on Monday at the hospital – I was having regular contractions, though they weren’t painful. Eventually we were asked – did I want the doctor to break my water or did I want to go home? I opted for home, thinking that within 24 hours things would be well on their way. Alas.

But this isn’t bad. If given the choice, I definitely want labor to begin spontaneously – it’s just the anticipation and the inability to really get up and move around that makes me crazy. I’d love to just go walk myself into labor, but it hurts my asshole pelvis.

Maybe I’ll suck it up and go wander around Target until I can’t stand it anymore. Or I could just sit here and watch Annie with the wee one. That sounds nice.

Anyway, sorry for the whiny post. Maybe for the next post I’ll talk about all of the fun things I’ve knocked over with my belly during the past few days… water cups, applesauce containers, mail off the table, etc. On second thought, that doesn’t sound very funny, does it? Maybe I’ll make fun of the So You Think You Can Dance chick who says "jidges" instead of "judges." Not very entertaining either, huh? How about more complaining then? Excellent.

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