This Is Getting Ridiculous!

Well. I'm not in the hospital yet, although I should have been 12 hours ago. Okay, okay, I should be waiting until my bag of waters breaks of its' own accord, but I'm not. I can't do it anymore! Today is the day! We got a lot done around the house yesterday--we actually have a living room, you can actually walk into baby's room, and there are only empty totes in the kitchen (i.e., most of the unpacking is complete). It's a nice feeling, to be able to sit at one's table and actually eat a meal while not trying to balance it on one's belly. Sure, there's plenty more to do, and I should probably start some laundry, but you just never know when they will call, and I'd rather not have a load sitting in the washer for days. I have taken a shower, put on some make-up, and I even did my hair. I haven't been this ready for anything in quite some time. I shaved yesterday, so I'm already getting prickly, but there's no way I'm shaving again until after monsieur makes his debut. WAY too much effort and too little reward. Should I call them again? I don't think they have forgotten me, but you never know. At this rate, I won't even be going in today! Okay, let's think positively, using our daily affirmations to control the pain: "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it--people like me shouldn't have to wait this long for a freakin' hospital bed!"

Mom! Peggy Stole My Layout!

I seriously don't care; it's kind-of flattering. Love ya, Pegs. So . . . we are going in for induction tonight. I'm a little bit freaked out. You know how you wait and wait for something to happen, getting all excited and making big plans? And then it arrives and you're like, "WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING??" I'm nervous. I'm ready to be done with the whole pregnancy thing (it has not been an enjoyable experience for me), but I don't know if I'm ready to be a mother! There's so much responsibility and so much I don't know. I can read all the books and websites I want, but nothing will actually prepare me for having a brand-new baby totally dependent on me. Wow--what a trip.

"Two Days."

"Four. Bare minimum if you want a decent Pan." You know that you know that quote . . . I admit it would be much more difficult if I hadn't watched the movie the other day. What's impressive, though, is that Allen stayed awake through the entire thing--quite a rare feat for him. Usually all it takes for him to fall asleep is about 30 seconds of non-movement. I wish it were as easy for me; I woke up just after 4 a.m. for my third trip to the potty, and I could not go back to sleep. So I started reading. Yesterday I picked up a Lamaze book (since I have been a slacker and haven't taken any classes . . .). It is quite interesting, and it basically tells me that everything that will happen in the next couple of days is unnatural and unhealthy. First, I should have chosen a midwife instead of an OB; I should have considered a 'birthing center' with a big fat whirlpool instead of a hospital; induction is not the best thing for either mother or baby; and I should do everything I can to avoid getting an epidural or using pain medication at all, etc. etc. Part of me is a bit panicky because I seem to have done everything wrong. But another part of me says "Bah." This is, technically, a high-risk pregnancy since I have the old Gestational Diabetes, and there is a lot that could go wrong. A hospital is the best place for me to be, since Benji may need some interventions to stabilize his blood sugar once the cord is cut. And I'm okay with that. I like my doctor, and thanks to the non-stress tests and such, I know that baby is healthy and good to go. I know a lot of research has gone into the design of the labor and delivery rooms at the new hospital, so they are probably quite friendly (here's hoping, anyway!). I'm not opposed to getting an epidural, but I am going to put if off for as long as possible. I want to be able to move around--I think that will help more than being drugged and bed-bound. For me, anyway--I cannot judge anyone else's birth experience, and I can't base my own solely on what others have done. So that's the plan. It also depends on who the anesthesiologist is--some of those guys are arrogant, incompetent jerks and I will not let them touch me. Sometimes ignorance can be bliss, but I'm glad I will know who that person is--the one who could be sticking a 5" needle into my spinal canal. You may call me crazy, and I'd probably have to agree with you. Some of my friends at work threw a small baby shower for me yesterday. It was very nice of them, and those who couldn't come to the "Princess" shower were able to attend yesterday. None of them resent me for not working--they all knew how tired and crabby I was toward the end--and that makes me happy. I'm still a bit disappointed in myself. I am feeling pretty good in general, my blood pressure is normal (usually) and my baby is happy, but I feel like I should be working. I do realize that it is probably because I'm not working that I'm feeling good; it's just hard to justify it in my little mind. Well, it's time to poke the old fingers again (can I just tell you how much I LOVE testing my blood sugar four times a day?! It's my favorite!). Thanks for reading. :o)

Stay-Puft Marshmallow Feet

My feet are huge. It's really quite depressing that they barely fit into the shoes from which I have removed the insoles. Pretty sad. At least my toes look nice . . . I went for a pedicure last week. I am going to get my hair done tomorrow, before the shower they are throwing for me at work. That will be nice. Now, if only my skin weren't in total rebellion and I didn't have a brontosaurus belly, I'd be in pretty good shape . . . It's about time for the old Sunday nap; I have missed it! I don't mind church in the afternoon, since that means I get to sleep in (strike that--it probably won't be happening much anymore!), but I like the 9am thing. It's nice. Thankfully the ward we just moved into meets at 9, too. We were a bit late today, and just as we were searching for a seat, the friend at the pulpit said, "There are Brother and Sister Cox. We just read in your memberships 30 seconds ago." And everyone turned around to look at us. So I gave everyone a little beauty pageant wave and we sat down. It was kind-of funny; I'm just grateful I didn't turn beet red like I usually do when attention is called to me. The dishwasher is running (halle-freakin'-lujah), and tomorrow we will have a real washer and dryer. They are older, but Allen says they are in really good shape. And they are being delivered (which means we don't have to rent a U-Haul and beg for man-power), and they only cost $200 for both. A pretty good deal, all in all. Of course, this means that a) I'm getting a washer and dryer for Valentine's Day, and b) I have about five loads of laundry to do in the next three days. I'm okay with that--look how accommodating I am!--because I'd rather forgo the flowers than have to fold my unmentionables at the laundrette. Oh--Allen did say that he would by me some trash cans for V-day too. He's a born romantic, don't you think?

"Open Up My Head And Let Me Out . . ."

Well. 6 days to go; not that I'm counting, or anything. There's a lot to do before baby actually gets here, but I'm really just so tired that I don't care anymore. At least the sun is shining today--the snow has been seriously depressing to me. Yeah, yeah, I'm supposed to be on bed rest and all that, but I just can't do it. That's a bit of a conundrum, I guess: being too tired to do anything, yet not wanting to lay around all day. I don't get it myself--I don't understand half of what I do and say anymore. I think I'll go have another bowl of Cocoa Krispies.