Or so I think. Our hospital bag is packed (especially in light of last week’s “false” labor event), the nursery is done in girlish hues, the baby girl clothing has been generously handed down or acquired (sister & consignment sale), my doula team is on standby (I’m the luckiest girl ever–get a great doula. It will make your life so much easier.), and SuperBoy is excited about his little sister “whooshing” out of mama’s belly (his term of choice).
You know you are ready to have a baby when two fears are overridden by the physical exhaustion of building and carrying another human being. Those two fears being: a) labor & delivery pain and b) no longer having sweet long sleeps at night. Bring on the unmedicated labor! Bring on the birth tub! Bring on the sore everything! I’m over it.
We went on a lovely double-birthday date the other night. AA’s and my birthday are exactly seven days apart, and I’m hoping our daughter comes sometime between our birthdays. She isn’t due until the 15th, but hey, come anytime, little lady! I had contractions through most of dinner and then was physically ill (no details) when we got home. But it was so nice to go out! And not do the dishes! I didn’t care that it was riddled with labor-related issues. Amusingly, the waitress kept saying things like “we have non-alcoholic mixed drinks as well” and “the sheep’s cheese is raw milk” and “can I get you anything ANYTHING else?” I don’t know if she’d seen so largely a pregnant lady out & about. And I was wearing heels with a peep-toe–my sister and I had just gotten pedicures, how could I not?