Dave and I have spent the last day or two giddily commenting on the lasts. Last time he goes to work as a non-dad. Last time we sleep alone in our house for a long time. Last time I make him his breakfast sandwich as a non-mom.  I have my own, too, last shower as a non-mom, last time I go in the grocery store and catch a glimpse of my big belly in the plate glass windows, last time I park the car and mind my belly as it slides past the steering wheel. It’s weird, you know? I’m about to become a mom.

Today, the last day, has been good. I got up, washed the last of the dishes, made up lists of information for Amy, even though she’d probably be able to figure out stuff like "the cat needs water" and everything. (Geek alert: i sent her screenshots of the draft email that is ready to be edited and sent to all on the notify list, so that she would be able to figure it out, because macs are SO HARD, right? I know.) I made up the bed, put together the last few things for the hospital bag, and drank some tea.

A friend brought over food for the fridge, for when we return, and with her, her 10 week old daughter. Dave was home for lunch, and I could see in his eyes the "whoa, we’re going to HAVE one of those TOMORROW" look as he admired the baby.  And we are — tomorrow. We’re going to have One of Those.

So, uh, yeah. This is my last blog entry as a non-mom. The next time you hear from me, it will be with 100% more baby, probably some sappiness, and maybe typed one-handed as I try to master WiFi Nursing.  Have a good weekend, yo. 

Here’s some pics of the baby room — even though the baby will be in our room for a good while, anyway….

Glider overlooks the backyard…

Books! & Baskets!

Glider, Crib, Quilt

Changing area, lots of cloth diapers…

Detail of the quilt of imperfection… the front has orange slice fabric, and the back has little lemon, lime, and orange slices embroidered on it. The binding is pineapple fabric, in honor of my fresh pineapple cravings of the first tri…

I should totally just do my freaking paper, already, but I can’t get my brain around it. I should’ve done it months ago, and I didn’t, and I planned to do it today, but HELLO! Today is the last Tuesday that I AM NOT A MOM. That is so weird. Tonight is the last night that Dave and I sleep in our own bed, together, as non-parents. FUCKED UP. How can I concentrate on a PAPER when I’m about to become a mom, for real? ARGH.

Finishing the quilt was way easier.  A paper? Nooooooo……. I won’t fail, it’s just an incomplete until I FINISH it. And I know, I KNOW I should Just Do It, but damn. I have a baby to daydream about! A BABY! Coming in the next, oh 48 hours or so. Holy CRAP. BABY.

Tonight we plan on giving the house a good clean, so that we come home to a clean house. I’m trying to convince Dave to work through lunch and come home at 4 tomorrow (we call L&D at 6 to go in), so we can get dinner or whatever, and I hope he does.  Amy will arrive after we’ve left, so I have to leave a note for her.  I’ve told my sister & parents that Thursday is D-Day, no matter what, but we haven’t told Dave’s family. (I don’t think, anyway. Maybe he did.) I’m okay with that, just because my parents are farther away and will be coming through Thursday or Friday anyway, so it’s okay to be on alert. the ILs are all in town, so I figure it’s okay that my parents have a ‘head start’ or whatever, and they know not to come to the hospital until the baby is born.

Oh, and a really bitchy rant — my MIL sent dave home with a Mother’s Day present for me. THoughtful, right? Sigh.  A WalMart Disney-Pooh onesie with a PUFFY PAINT TIGGER on the front. With matching ASS PANTS that say "I <3 TIGGER."  I hate ASS PANTS anyway, on babies or adults or 12 year old girls, I haaaate them. (There was a girl in my yoga class that had them that said "SPANK ME" and they made me want to BEAT HER. UGH.)  Plus, it’s licensed character Disney crap. It’s POOH-ASS SHIT. And so NOT a mother’s day present, not at all. That’s a baby gift. Why not just bring it when I have the baby, instead of saying "HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY" with it. SO FUCKING WEIRD.  Of course, she told Dave "I have the slip if she doesn’t like it" which just puts one on the spot, who’s going to call and say "I hate this, where’s the receipt?" But it’s clearly from Walmart (tags still on) so I could just return it if I wanted, but then, ew. Walmart. Sigh. I fear that the announcement of the baby’s sex is going to lead to an onslaught of Princess and/or Lil Slugger themed clothes, neither of which I want to dress my kid in, as it will be neither a princess nor a lil silugger.  Lil’ blogger, maybe. But not a slugger. Argh.  Shouldn’t bitch about a gift, but it just symbolizes what I dread about future gifts, you know? Sigh.  It makes me feel like a selfish, snobby, bitch, but I can’t help it. I just can’t.

Anyway, baby in 48. WEIRD.

Well, damn. No change from last Friday, so I have my induction papers in hand. the NST was great, baby is good and healthy, but mama’s cervix isn’t thinning or dilating, so that blows.

The plan is to go in on Wednesday evening for Cervidil, which is like a gel tampon of stuff that ripens the cervix.  That gets put in, we chill for the evening, and at 6 am, my OB comes in to get the show on the road. Hopefully, my cervix will respond well to the cervidil.  Pitocin will be the next step, Thursday morning. I’m okay with this decision, which is MY decision, at my OB’s suggestion.

For one, I love my OB. She really LISTENS to me, and is low intervention.  I will be induced at 41w, with GD, and a family history of large babies, and I know that other OBs in town would’ve had me schedule a C-section 3 weeks ago, for real.  I also have kind of figured this was coming, since in addition to having big babies, my family holds their babies in tight. My mom was induced twice with each of us, but still had natural deliveries. My crazy cousin Liz, who thinks water is poison and had all her fillings removed in Mexico even told me that her homebirth turned into a transfer because she was just NOT dilating, and had to be augmented with Pitocin. The chick thinks water is poison, and even SHE warned me that we hang on tight in this family, and that pit and an epi are what allowed her to avoid a c-section. 

Anyway, while I know the OB pretty much just does the catching, she’s the one who will be getting the information from the nurses and such, and she’s been really good about everything thus far. She’s not freaked out by the size of the baby, because she knows my history, whereas another OB might look at my chart and be all "Get the scalpel! This thing is HUUUGGGEE!"  I trust my doctor, which is important, that you trust your provider, whether it’s an OB or a CNM or a lay midwife, you know? So, I’m glad my OB will be the one hearing my case.

It also means that Amy will be able to be here without a panicked 120 mile drive ahead of her, which makes me feel better about that situation, and since Dave is taking his 10 days of vacation for this, it’s nice to know that it’s happening later in the week, so that he won’t have to go back til June 1, which means my first solo stretch will be just 2 days, instead of a whole week. My family won’t be in the middle of a graduation, but they will be on their way to one, so even more convenient for them to meet the widget. I’ve heard good things about the Thursday day shift in L&D, too, so that gives me some confidence as well.

I also won’t miss the Grey’s Anatomy finale tonight (YAY!) and I’m hoping we’re settled in and Cervidil’ed up in time to see the finale of The Amazing Race. Whee!

I mean, I’m so proud of my body for bringing us this far, you know? It’s really amazed me more than disappointed me, the way I’ve gained weight (or not gained, really, the way I thought), the way I’ve really felt pretty mobile and unhindered, the way it’s set up the placenta (not anterior, so we are always reassured by movement, or previa) and the baby’s head has found it’s way down. It’s done a far better job than I expected it to, really, and if this is where I get disappointed, I’m so, so lucky. The end result is that we come home with a healthy baby. I’m already letting go of my previous birth expectations, of staying at home as long as possible and all of that, and reminding myself that the goal is to become a mom, not to have the storybook version birth experience. That would be GREAT, for sure, but I didn’t get pregnant to give birth, I got pregnant to have a baby, to make a family, to give Dave a relative that looks like him, to carry on my family’s name. That’s what I’m looking forward to — facing parenthood with Dave, who is my best friend and partner and the only person I can imagine doing this with. I can’t wait to see him hold his baby for the first time, to finally see the creature that he’s been pressing his ear to for the last 9 months. That’s what I want.

So, by Friday, I’ll be a mom. I mean, I could go into labor RIGHT NOW, and that would be great, but the induction decision is okay, too. Because by this weekend? CINNABON IN A CAN, mofos, CINNABON IN A CAN. (And you know, BABY, which is even sweeter.)

Stiilllll preeeggnnnaannnnt. Sigh.

I really, really wanted to have a baby by today, and sure, the day isn’t over yet, but I’m also not contracting, so the odds are good that I won’t go today.  Last year, I started to miscarry on Mother’s Day.  It would be nice to go into labor today, even if I end up with the (unfavorable 😉 ) May 15 delivery date.  More plug, and more pooping, but no baby. yet.

Also? We totally don’t have anything for our moms. We were counting on being able to beg off as new parents. Shit.

When I first decided to make you a quilt, I looked at hundreds of patterns online, copied and pasted them into photoshop, played with colors and lines and patterns and designs. I looked over fabrics, touched them, ran them between my fingers, looking for just the right colors and just the right feel.  I wanted it to be perfect.

Eventually, though, I settled on three fabrics that I liked, and decided to just do a checkerboard pattern. Even then, I didn’tmake it into a classic crib size (whatever that is), instead, I just cut out squares and sewed up strips and sewed them together into a just-barely-a-rectangle. The strips and squares were best guesses, really, and not all the corners match up.  When I pinned it together, it took a while, because everything was just a little crooked.

My plan to quilt it was a good one; I imagined each individual square quilted just inside the perimeter.  Sure, I might use the machine to do it, but it would be perfect. When I tried, though, it was your due date, and I changed my plans. Maybe I’d just do a straight stitch on either side of each seam, so that it was KIND OF like quilting each individual square. . . I did that on one seam, and that was taking too long, too. So instead, I just ran a straight stitch along each seam, and in the end your quilt is far from perfect.  There are wrinkles sewn in, and places where it bunched, and a few places where the straight stitch  sways out of line. I still have to bind it, which will help mask that the backing and top don’t quite meet at one end, and kind of on one side, but it’s almost done, imperfections and all.

But really, that’s the thing with me. You’re going to find that I’m not perfect at all. Some people, real quilters, have racks and leather thimbles and special glasses and threads to make the right angles all meet up, to make their quilts a geometric miracle, to make them heirloom worthy.  I have a five year old sewing machine that I got for ninety dollars at Walmart, and a strong desire to have made something just for you.  That’s all.

So now you have a quilt, almost done, all lime green and orange and blue and flannel, and bunchy in some parts and crooked in others, but every piece was sewn together with you on my mind, and in my body, swirling around, waiting to be born.  This quilt will never be a museum piece, but it’s yours. I hope that you don’t mind the imperfections, in it, or in me.

I can’t wait to meet you.

Uh, yeah, the mucus plug I *thought* I lost earlier this week? Uh, no. Because I lost it this morning, and OMG. MUCUS PLUG is RIGHT. Whoa. YAY!

I mean, losing the plug doesn’t mean delivery is imminent, but it does mean that my cervix is just that more favorable should I need to be induced later this week, you know? Plus, MUCUS PLUG. Of course, husband in bed and wife inbathroom going "ohhhhh HHAHAHAHAHA, Oh my god ewwww HAHAHAHAHAHAHA" at 7 am leads to husband going "WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?" Hee.

We both slept like shit last night, and I had even taken a Tylenol & benadryl (DIY Tylenol PM) to help me sleep and stuff, but by about 4:30, we were both tossing and turning and having fuzzy conversations. The cat was wedged in between us (sigh… we’re suckers) and we finally got up (MUCUS PLUG!) and are now having coffee.  What else?

Oh, the cat. The cat has been weird with me since yesterday, which makes me just. . . wonder if she senses something. She’s DAVE’s cat, I’m more of a tolerable nuisance and only relaly sought after when it’s time for her breakfast or something, but yesterday she followed me everywhere. Curled up at the end of the couch and just stared at me, followed me upstairs and got inbed with me when I took my nap, even rolled up against me when Dave and I were watching tv on the couch — she loves being betweenus, but she NEVER presses herself against me, always Dave. Even today, Dave thinks she’s looking at me with an eyebrow raised. Anyone’s cats freak out as a sign of labor?

So, birthdays that work for us:

Today, May 13:  Eventually, Dave  would get to plan a Friday the 13th themed birthday party for his kid.
Tomorrow, May 14: The 2yr anniversary of buying our house (yay!), and also, Mother’s Day, which would be especially great because I started to m/c on Mother’s Day last year. Also, we haven’t gotten our moms gifts. We were sorta counting on a grandkid being a good one.
Monday May 15: May 15 doesn’t really work for us. Sure, it’s national Chocolate Chip Day, but that’s about IT.
Tuesday, May 16: National Sea Monkey Day! EXCELLENT choice for the child of a sea monkey cultivator extraordinaire, like Dave.
Wednesday May 17: Not favorable, the Ayatollah Khomeini AND Bob Saget share this birthday. EEEK.
Thursday, May 18: Tina Fey’s birthday! Highly acceptable.

Also, yesterday my mom and sister stopped in on their way to Auburn (today is Super Saturday for graduations), and we went to lunch, where, for the VERY FIRST TIME a total stranger asked when I was due.  When I said "Oh, today," the waitress’ eyes bugged out of her head. "But I just got back frommy doctor, and trust me, the rugs are safe in here."  She then went and told the other servers and host staff, who were all young enough to think that due dates are definitive, and they were all bug-eyed too. hee.  I hope someone asks me soon, and I can say "yesterday" or something.

Aaaannnnnd, still pregnant.  NST was great, and I even had 3 measurable, and evenly spaced, but mild contractions, which is a first in my NST experience.  My doc did a cervix check and got me to 1cm (OMG, OW, and I KNOW it’s only going to get totally worse) and did a quick u/s to check fluid levels and the placenta, both of which are looking good. I have another NST on Monday (but it IS the full moon, and when i asked the nurse about that, she said it ‘RAINS babies’ on the full moons), and another cervix check. If my cervix isn’t favorable, I go in Wednesday night for cervidil, and if it IS favorable, I show up Thursday morning.  I’m totally okay with it, 41w induction is pretty good for a GD patient, if I even make it there.

Still pregnant!

It’s weird, by evening, I’m convinced I’m going to go into labor overnight. Then I wake up and feel GREAT. Sigh.

Today I worked on the quilt, talked to Amy a few times ("No, I’m not in labor yet") took a good nap, and drank tea. When Dave got home, we went to Marden’s, in hopes of a full circle thing — "we met here, and now my water’s broken in the nails and bolts aisle!" — and then to the grocery store to stock up on some postpartum food, which is about 98% forbidden carbs form the GD diet. Muffin mixes, breakfast cereal, manicotti, bagels….  I kind of felt uncomfortable in the store, and my cervix is feeling sort of twingey, but definitely not in labor yet.

Tomorrow is my 40w appointment, and I’m 100% sure I’m going to end up with an induction date. I’m okay with that — I do have the GD to consider, my OB is really, truly wonderful, and doesn’t schedule inductions to suit her schedule, but to avoid c-sections, and I picked her because of those kinds of things.  I trust my doctor, which is so, so important — she’s listened to me when I say "we grow big babies!" and worked with me when it came to the last u/s situation. She’s also going to be checking for cervix favorability, which is good, and if it’s favorable, I imagine we might start talking induction sooner rather than later. If it’s not, I figure she’ll say "You have til Wednesday" or whatever, to go on my own.  Obviously, best case scenario would be spontaneous labor, but if that doesn’t work out for us, it doesn’t work out. The ultimate best case scenario is healthy baby.

Of course, I’m realizing that the baby is landing as my favorite tv shows are ending. The season finales of The Amazing Race and Survivor (not even a fave anymore, but once you’ve watched most of the season, you have to watch the end) will never be rerun, and Grey’s Anatomy is a 2-parter, which ALSO will likely not show up in reruns.  Luckily, I have friends with Tivo and DVD burners, so I think I’ll be okay on that front, but still! Argh.

My MTB arrived today, and is beaaaauuuutifulll.  Dave thinks I’ll never use it, so I’ll be spending the next two years proving him wrong, thank you very much.  (It’s like this one, only adjustable, and I got it used, and for less. And I also found a used lovey liner to add to it, which is on its way from California…)

Anyway. So, mamas who are reading, how did you know it was labor, anyway? If anyone wants to share how they figured out that this WASN’T just a weird B-H or something, or what the key sensation/realization/etc was that made you go "oh… OHHHHHH, i think I’m having a baby soon!" in the comments, or via email, I’d love to hear it! 🙂

ETA: Oh! And Saturday is a full moon, which apparently correlates with busy L&Ds. I can vouch for the correlation of fullmoons causing crazy schoolkids, any anecdata for the fullmoon/childbirth connection?

Nope! Not yet!

Last night, I had my last class for the semester. I still have stuff to finish, but right now, the only thing I want to FINISH is pregnancy. On my way home, I realized HOLY SHIT, I’M ABOUT TO HAVE A DAMN BABY, and we’ll never go out to eat, alone, again.  As such, I decided that we would go out to eat last night.

We decided to go to Texas Roadhouse, which has remarkably good food, but wrapped in an atmosphere that you would never find me voluntarily going into, if it weren’t for the food. Loud country music, line dancing waitstaff, stuffed armadillos, a roaming saddle that has something to do with birthdays ?, all that "authentic Texas" stuff, right, Lisa? 😉  I mean, seriously, I went for my mom’s birthday, because she likes it, and had to eat a big plate of crow for returning, but the food was really that good. (Even Andy today admitted the shame of enjoying a Texas Roadhouse meal.)  We decided to call ahead to get on th elist, since there’s always a line, and the hostess said "oh, it’ll be no problem for the next hour or so, but I’ll put you on the list." 

WELL, we ended up waiting LONGER than people that walked in. THAT was fucking ANNOYING. Apparently, there are two lists, one for those that try to save time and aggravation by calling ahead, and one for walk ins. Literally, 3 walk in parties were seated before us, because apparently there were more call-ahead people? I didn’t get it. Dave was annoyed (we never wait in line for food, ever, and that was the whole POINT of calling ahead) so I finally went up and said "Hey, can I just get a walk-in number, because it’s obvious that that wait is shorter."  I’m normally not one to complain or fuss, but hello, I’m TEN MONTHS PREGNANT, and I CALLED AHEAD.  Amazingly, when I said that, they could seat us. Laughably, they sat us in the bar, at a tall table for two. Dave was all "Can you get up there?" I could. But then we were hoping my water would break, because that would be vindication for the wait, to have a sea of amniotic fluid and peanut shells (apparently, texans drop their peanut shells on the floor! AUTHENTIC!) and then say "Well, we CALLED AHEAD to try to avoid this!" Alas, it didn’t happen.

The dinner was really yummy, apparently they only use fresh stuff, and not frozen? or something? ANyway, it’s good eats. Their house salad is the only one I’ve ever finished-finished, not finished by leaving 2 inches of wet iceberg lettuce in the bottom of the plate. The hot rolls and cinnamon butter are tasty, and even the cheapest steak is tender and yummy. Poor Dave, though. The GD diet has meant no potatoes, pasta, etc, at home, and he’d said earlier in the day when i asked if he wanted lunch (he’d worked early and come home at 2, hungry) his answer was "Mashed potatoes with a side of mashed potatoes." So, when he ordered his meal, he ordered the mashed potatoes and steak fries as his sides. AND OF COURSE, OF COURSE! They are OUT of mashed potatoes. What steak house runs out of mashed potatoes?! Regardless, it was fun in its own way of watching the Sox game and going "We’re going to be PARENTS. WEIIIRRDD." 

Afterwards, we decided we needed to get Dave his snacks for the labor bag, so we went to the grocery store where our basket looked like third graders let loose to cater their own backyard camping trip. Peanut butter crackers, Hi-C, gum, and marginally healthy, oatmeal-to-go bars. So we’re really ready, now that Dave has snacks packed.

It’s weird, going to bed at night and wondering if I’m going to have a wakeup-with-contractions or a water-gush or soemthing. I changed the sheets, and put a chux pad under my side, just in case (thereby ensuring that my water won’t break in bed).  When I wake up to pee all night, I have to steady myself because of my bum leg, and there’s usually a pop, and I wonder if that’s my water? But I know it’s not after a step or two. I hope that recognizable labor doesn’t kick in overnight, because it would be easier to call Amy during the day or evening than the middle of the night, and she has a 2 hour drive. Granted, I know that the odds of me needing to head to L&D within 2 hours of recognizable labor are pretty damn low, but I’d rather have HER driving at a reasonable hour. The worry hours for me are between 10 & 6, I’d say, because at 10 or 6, she’d be amped enough to get a coffee and be good to go. 3 am, I’d worry.  Plus, I wouldn’t want dave to lose precious sleep just being excited and anxious about the early labor stuff. (Watch this all be moot, in the end.)

Today I started finishing the baby quilt I’d started months ago; it’s pieced, I have the backing and the batting, but I just have to (machine) quilt it, so I worked on getting it layered right, which was more of a PITA than a ‘real’ quilter would every have to deal with, since I pretty much don’t get anal about ‘right angles’ and stuff. It’s more love than accuracy, you know? ANdy had the day off, so I met him at the bagel shop for lunch, which was great — I was also hoping for some sort of full circle symbolism, since it was the bagel shop lunch with andy that made me drive to the dollar tree back in August.  Also, maybe all those bagels would remind my cervix that it needs to OPEN.  I came home and took a grrrrreat nap, and Dave has brought down my sewing machine so that I can work on the quilt in the dining room while he does his video game thing tonight, and damn, I’m READY. READY.

But, I’m still not in labor. Couldn’t leave y’all hanging, though.

I