God IS a man

And I have my doubts about Mother Nature's true gender also.

At around 9:30 last night, it all started. Every 10-12 minutes I doubled over, and I was happy about it! I got a bag ready for Zoe and made a list of things I thought I would need at the hospital -- which amounted to my medication and a camera -- and waited. By midnight I decided that I better have my last meal, and I made a quesadilla and crawled back into bed. Joe was showered and ready to go. By 2 a.m. I was in a fair amount of pain, but sleepiness took over.

When I woke up today... nothing.

Nothing at all.

For three hours now I've found a ton of excuses to go up and down the stairs, and still nothing.

Grrrrrr.

Revenge of the Body Snatcher

I went to Giant Eagle tonight, and I realized as I was loading the trunk that I bought groceries as though I'd be cooking all week. Didn't even give it a second thought.

I must have reached and passed some magical marker where people start asking when. Sunday. SUNDAY, OK? IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE SUNDAY BUT I AIN'T FEELING IT!!

I think the baby has dropped, finally. I feel different, I think I look a little different. I have a different set of uncomfortable complaints. But some women drop months in advance. I tell myself the only thing I can count on is that the doctors won't let me keep this in beyond December. Will they?

I was reading up on some ways to "get ready." Where were we before Google? I found tons of real medical information as well as some sites by midwives who swear by certain tinctures and remedies. One suggestion was black cohash, I think, but it isn't supposed to be used by hypertensive women. Another was castor oil -- but beware! If it doesn't work, one will spend a couple of days in the bathroom. In agony.

And then there was evening primrose oil, applied directly to the cervix. Hmmm. In 33 years I managed to avoid learning how to exactly pinpoint the location of the cervix. Then I found one suggestion I might be able to live with: stimulating the breasts. How hard could that be? Reading on I found that one should take a break from that every four or five hours or so.

I decided I had better things to do with my time.

I stopped working Tuesday. I was celebrating my first couple of hours of freedom -- walking aimlessly from room to room before settling down on the couch for a nap -- when the school nurse called. Zoe had pneumonia.

There's nothing better to take your mind off an impending birth than a 5-year-old with pneumonia. Day and night, I nursed her coughs and sponged her down to control the fever. Even on antibiotics, she developed an ear infection too. All this, just a couple weeks after a bout with croup.

I asked the doctor if there was any earthly way I could keep her healthy. "Oh, she'll be fine in first grade," she said.

I'm pretty sure I heard the same thing when she was in preschool. "Oh, she'll be fine when she gets to kindergarten......."

She's better now, and I think I've warded off the worst of it. So.... back to agonizing over my lack of progression.



I should invite a bunch of people over for pot roast on Sunday. Maybe that will get this ball moving.

Almost there!

This past week has been agonizing.

I'm officially a week away from my due date, and it's all I can think about. I've had a couple of good days, ones where I've actually finished all the laundry in one shot or gotten all my Christmas shopping done, but most days I'm so tired that it seems like all I do is sleep. And when I am awake, I agonize about all the sleeping I'm doing.

When I mention to someone that I can't understand why I'm so unbelievably tired, they just laugh and point out my midsection. Ha ha. But this is frightening tired, like all of a sudden I have to just sleep. And then I'm out not for 20 minutes or an hour, but three, four hours.

And I'm still tired.

The reason this worries the most: Will I have the stamina for childbirth?

I guess I can't possibly sleep through it, but it sure would be more pleasant if I were better equipped, mentally and physically.

I've been having contractions since before Thanksgiving, but every time I go to the doctor, it's the same thing: half a centimeter dilated. Half a centimeter. Half a centimeter...

Knowing how hard it was to evict Zoe, I dread another episode of that. She was 11 days late and put me in labor for 33 hours. My friends point out that most second babies come earlier and easier. Yeah, if this one is nine days late and only 24 hours worth of labor, that's still earlier and easier!!

I had to take the end of last week off work. I went in on Wednesday and was immediately sobbing at my desk. Why, I don't know. I just kept telling myself that it was time to stop crying. "Self, time to stop crying," I kept saying. But I didn't listen. I didn't think I'd go back this coming week, but I'm going to give it a shot. I think I've given my boss a pretty good indication of my precarious mental state, so if the time comes to throw in the towel on a paycheck, I'll have done my best.



I had this brilliant idea to cook Christmas dinner for 10 people so I wouldn't have to take the baby out of the house. Just Joe's parents and brother, and my father and siblings. First I got my sister to agree to help me, then Joe's mom got on board with turkey and lasagna. Then my sister tells me tonight that my dad doesn't want to come (and I don't understand why I have to always hear shit like this through my sister) so she's not coming either. And she didn't feel like cooking for all those people anyway.

Gee, thanks guys. I really wasn't putting myself out by preparing a feast a week after popping a kid out, so no big deal. I was actually thinking that I'd rather drag a brand new baby out into the cold and into Dad's cigar-smoke-filled house, so this works out so much better. I'll bring my sitz bath on the off chance I'm a wee bit uncomfortable.

OK, sarcasm aside... I'm just going to cook. And whoever shows up, shows up, and I ain't gonna worry about it. "Self, don't worry about it," I'll keep saying.

Maybe I'll listen.

God, sometimes I miss Florida so much!!!