Another Day . . .

You cannot imagine the sense of accomplishment at my house when the sun goes down and we realize we have made it through another day of waiting, watching the Food Network, and wondering about every 6 seconds when our daughter is going to arrive. My old friend Julie C used to say that some days all you can do is "root for midnight." I usually apply that adage in the heavy, excruciating days that follow a gut-wrenching break up, but it applies to my life these days as well. We are getting into a good rhythm of spending time inside and outside; with each other and alone; with friends and with the general public. As soon as we are coasting, the baby will arrive and we'll need to start all over again.

It's a good thing we are young and healthy.

I have noticed that not working and being home with my husband trying to pass the time patiently waiting for our little Love has translated into spending lots of money. For example, today we got Jeff an iPhone. Technically, it's his Coach Present, since he's going to coach me through the birth process. In other words, it's the male version of the "pushing present," which I will get when I push the baby out. I think we can all agree that an iPhone is not a sentimental choice, but it sure is fun to play with. I think it may come in handy if we have one of those happy 36-hour birth stories that are alarmingly common for first-time moms. He seems pleased with his phone, and I can only hope he's as pleased with the phone as I will be when I get that 6 carat diamond pendant as my pushing present. You know, something simple and elegant.

Strange things are happening with my body, but not THOSE strange things that signal birth. For example, I had a very gushy bloody nose the other night. For those of you who know intimate details about birth, you know there is a bloody element (the "bloody show"), but so far all I had was a bloody nose. Then, today, out of the clear cerulean blue sky, there was a ball of wax in my ear as big as a milk dud. I could hardly believe it. Where in the stars did that come from? I accused Jeff of planting it in my ear, but the evidence is inconclusive. We did a google search on "pregnancy and ear wax," and apparently it's quite common for the woman with child to end up with a gigantic ball of wax in her ear.

Is this going to get stranger? Don't answer that question.

In other news . . . well, frankly, there is no other news. We are making tentative plans for the next few days. We were bold enough to go for a birthday lunch plan for next Tuesday, which is actually my birthday. 36 golden years walking the planet. People ask me what I want for my birthday, and I can only stare blankly because my entire being is consumed with wanting a healthy baby and a healthy, safe, fun delivery. Yes, Fun. I said it. I want it to be fun. I had two contractions on the way to the Apple store tonight and I can say it was completely amazing and fun. I love how it feels. It's a sensation not like any other I have ever felt. My whole core felt really warm and there was a tightening, almost a burning sensation, and then it all softened again. I loved it and can't wait to crank out some more contractions. I may eat those words, but I think it's fun. I can picture being in the hospital with Jeff and the Birth Team and hanging out, turning the thermostat down low, and paying attention to my body in ways I never have before and may never again outside the context of birth.

Today I was folding some laundry for the baby and I came across some newborn sized onsies and I realized they probably won't fit Pepps. They are ridiculously small. They are literally the size of my palm, and though I have never laid eyes on my baby thus far, I know her body is bigger than my palm. A mother knows. She's currently swishing around like I fed her crack cocaine, but actually it was just some tamales with extra pico de gallo. It was a little strong on the jalepeno side so I am not surprised that she's gone all wiggle worm on me. If it helps her little brain make that signal to start birth, then so be it. It's all in a night's dinner.

I am not quite impatient for her to come. I would more say that I am impatient to know WHEN she is coming. Unfortunately, medical science hasn't advanced to the point that anyone can say when she will come or even if she will come on her own. I am happy that medical science has advanced far enough that I am not likely to die in childbirth, but it can't do much more for me right now than make that general assurance.

In the meantime, we just go about our business. I am enjoying these last few days of attention from strangers who can see I am about to burst with baby. I thought the check out lady at Target was going to go boil some water when I told her I was 2 days overdue. I told her that I was perfectly willing to have the baby in the Target bathroom, so long as they give me a $5.00 gift card for my trouble.

It's an exquisite time. I am thoroughly happy and excited about what the next week holds. As I understood the doctor, the most she will let me to is to next Friday. 8 days. That's nothing. God created a world in seven. Makes sense you need an extra day to make a princess.